The Beautiful Side of Somewhere
by MomentarySetback
Summary: The one thing they promised each other they'd never do was fall apart...
1. The End Is The Beginning Is The End

**Author's Note: **Uh oh, two multi-chaps at once. Here we go. As always, thanks to my wonderful beta **restless-mess**. Hope you all like this.

* * *

_Still pressing on, arm over arm_

_Still trying to get both feet back onto the ground_

_They are harvesting these fields in autumn_

_We're different now than when we started_

Calleigh sighed contentedly, a pleased smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. She liked puzzles; that was part of why she'd become a CSI, after all. And this just so happened to be her favorite kind of puzzle.

She took a deep breath, eyes surveying the multitude of gun parts laid out across the table in her lab. The only thing that confused her was where to start. After a moment's deliberation she picked up the stripped-down upper receiver with a smile and slid the sight into place.

Some jackass thought he was being clever by disassembling the AR-15 he'd used to shoot his girlfriend. Unfortunately for him, he didn't know MDPD had Calleigh Duquesne.

She quickly slipped pins, knobs, and screws into the receiver. She was so wrapped up in slapping parts together that she didn't even notice the person at the doorway until an amused chuckle escaped his lips.

Tensing slightly, she met his eyes and attempted a welcoming smile. Pausing, she held the base of the receiver in her palm and greeted him with a friendly, "Hey."

"Hey, uh…sorry to interrupt," he apologized, motioning towards the parts strewn across her workspace. He stood directly across from her, resting his palms on the table. This was closer than he'd been to her in a long time; it was a little suffocating.

"That's alright," she assured. Her eyes danced over the parts and then back to him. "I know right where to pick up."

"I'm sure," he said knowingly, casting his eyes toward the floor for a moment before hesitantly looking back up at her. Any indication of just how well he knew her seemed a little too intimate and inappropriate right now. "I heard you guys had a bit of a bump in the road with the case, so I wanted to see if you needed me to pick up Brie, but…"

"This will only set us back a few minutes," she finished for him, smiling assuredly. "I can still pick her up…unless you had plans?"

"Oh, no," he insisted, shaking his head. "You're good to go."

"Okay." Calleigh bit her lip, focusing back on the gun to have something to distract herself from the situation at hand. She loaded a spring into place and tucked the corresponding piece in behind it. His eyes lingered on her and it was nerve-racking, so she met his eyes, knowing he'd realize what he was doing. As expected, he pushed off the table to stand upright and averted his eyes.

"Okay," he echoed, nodding. "You'll call me later?"

She smiled, grateful for his deep affections. "Always do."

* * *

Calleigh rapped on the door three times and then waited, biting her lip as she stared at the off-white door. This house, with its Spanish-inspired red clay roofing and the ever-present scent of Cuban food, had always had a special place in her heart. It was a place of warmth and family, of open arms and laughter.

Now, though, those memories were tainted by the current discomfort that swelled within her. She still wasn't used to this.

When Clorinda pulled the door open, the first thing she noticed was that Calleigh looked tired. Not just tired. _Exhausted._ Her beautiful green eyes lacked their usual gleam, and hints of dark circles could be seen beneath. She'd lost weight, and her delicate frame seemed much too small to carry the burdens she was bearing.

With a smile and welcoming arms, she hastened Calleigh into the house. "Mija, it's so good to see you," Clorinda said softly as she pulled Calleigh into a warm hug. It had only been a week, but Clorinda held her close and lingered as though it had been months.

"Momma!" The small, excited voice interrupted their embrace, and Calleigh had barely caught sight of the familiar blur of dark blonde hair before her daughter was attached to her legs.

"Hi, baby," Calleigh whispered softly as she crouched down and wrapped her arms snugly around the little girl. "I missed you so much." She'd been working so much that it hadn't even hit her until now, as she held her daughter in her arms and the scent of L'oreal Kids shampoo greeted her senses, that two days apart had felt like a lifetime away from her baby.

Calleigh pulled back slightly to take in her daughter's face and smiled, reaching out to twist Eric's sorry excuse for a ponytail around her fingers. Aubrey had a surprising mix of both of them in her features. Her golden hair had undertones of cinnamon and dark brown, and the long locks curled into loose ringlets near the ends. She grinned back at Calleigh with an identical smile, but the full lips that formed it were distinctly from Eric. Her eyes were a striking hazel, brown near the pupil with an explosion of green throughout the iris. And though her skin was golden like Eric's, it was creamier and lighter thanks to Calleigh's own fair skin.

Aubrey's eyes suddenly brightened and Calleigh raised her brows expectantly, knowing some sort of burst of excitement was to follow.

"Abuela and I went to the quarum!" she announced, bouncing up onto her tip toes excitedly.

"The aquarium?" Calleigh asked, matching her daughter's excitement as she gasped enthusiastically. "What did you see?!"

"A tiger shark!" she proclaimed, eyes alight with a love of excitement and danger Calleigh knew all too well.

"I showed her all the beautiful fish," Clorinda began, shaking her head, "But she won't stop about the tiger shark."

"Well you are most certainly a Duquesne woman," Calleigh muttered as she stood up, making Clorinda chuckle.

"They get _fourteen_ feet big," Aubrey continued on, emphatically gesturing with her hands. "Abuela said that's like two Daddies! That's _really_ big."

"That is big!" Calleigh affirmed, smiling. As usual, her enthusiasm for her daughter's learning overshadowed her exhaustion. "What else did you learn?"

"A nemo fish is a clown fish," she recited, then pursing her lips in thought. "Oh! And I saw a fish that did this…" She proceeded to hollow out her cheeks to make "fish lips," widened her eyes to make them appear bugged out, and lifted her hands near her face to imitate little fish fins.

Calleigh laughed, more than she had in days, and tugged her over-zealous four-year-old's ponytail playfully. "Okay, fish girl," Calleigh teased, "Let's get you home and in the water where you belong…and by that I mean in the bathtub. Where's your backpack?"

Groaning, Aubrey ran off in search of her bag and Clorinda fixed her eyes back on Calleigh with a lingering smile at the scene that had just unfolded.

"You could stay for dinner, you know," Clorinda suggested. She looked at Calleigh wistfully, frowning at her apparent apprehension.

"Thank you," Calleigh said, smiling gratefully. She pressed her lips together then, rolling them slowly as she considered the offer. As always, she came to the same conclusion. "It just feels a little weird," she admitted. "I don't want to make Eric uncomfortable…"

Clorinda smiled knowingly and rested her hand on Calleigh's arm appreciatively. "I don't think he'd mind, but I do understand." She sighed, squeezing Calleigh's arm reassuringly as Aubrey trudged back in, dragging her full bookbag.

Calleigh smiled apologetically and opened her arms to give Clorinda a hug, a gesture that had taken her forever to feel comfortable initiating. "Again, thank you so much for watching her this summer," Calleigh said as Clorinda hugged her tightly.

"Don't thank me!" Clorinda waved off the idea. "I love spending time with my grandbaby."

Calleigh took Brie's bookbag and slung it over her own shoulder, leaning down again to whisper into her daughter's ear. Aubrey smiled shyly and hopped over to her grandmother, reaching her arms upward for a hug.

"Thank you for taking me to the 'quarium," she said, kissing her grandmother's cheek as Clorinda wrapped her arms around her tiny body for a moment.

"You are most welcome, mi linda." Releasing her granddaughter with a smile, Clorinda raised her eyes to Calleigh. "Drive safe and call me if you ever need anything."

"We will," Calleigh assured, taking Aubrey's hand as they walked through the doorway.

With a sigh and a solemn glance after them, Clorinda closed the door. So much had changed.

_She hadn't meant to eavesdrop, really, but she'd been feeling quite useless sitting in Eric and Calleigh's living room. For a woman who was always taking care of everyone in her family, it was quite difficult for Clorinda to sit back and allow Eric and Calleigh to prepare a family dinner without her help. She'd made it to the doorway of the kitchen when subtle laughter and the sight of Eric up against Calleigh's back deterred her._

_She waited for a minute, expecting their moment to end, but Eric swept Calleigh's long hair over to one shoulder and delicately kissed her exposed neck._

"_You are making cooking very difficult," Calleigh pointed out, desperately trying to keep her attention on measuring the correct amounts for ingredients._

"_Are you complaining?" he asked knowingly. He set his beer bottle down on the counter and slid his hands, cool and wet with condensation from the bottle, down her bare arms._

"_I suppose not," she said playfully, and her tone had Clorinda shrinking back from the kitchen with a smile. Calleigh glanced at Eric's beer bottle and frowned. "No fair. I want wine."_

"_You can have wine," Eric began, grinning like crazy, "in six months."_

_Clorinda froze, torn between guilt over overhearing something so important and excitement over the prospect of another grandchild – her baby boy's first child._

_Eric wrapped his arms around her low on her abdomen and pulled her back to his chest, dotting kisses over her shoulder and neck. "How long," he mumbled in between kisses, "until everyone's gone and I can take this off you?" he asked, playing with the hem of her v-neck tank top._

"_Mmm, a couple hours maybe." She smiled as his hand settled over the nearly indistinguishable beginnings of a bump._

_Slightly embarrassed, Clorinda laughed silently to herself and hurried away from the kitchen. Though she definitely hadn't needed to overhear that, it made her deliriously happy that her son had found Calleigh. They were so in love, and she'd witnessed the way they just seemed to fall even further for each other every day. Few couples stayed so deeply enamored by one another, but Clorinda was certain that for Eric and Calleigh this phase would never end._

How wrong she'd been.

* * *

God, she had missed this. The past two days had been irrevocably incomplete without cuddles from a four-year-old and bedtime stories. As she settled into the small white bed and Aubrey cuddled up against her side, she wanted to hug her daughter tightly and never let go. She'd missed the smell of Dove soap and the way Aubrey would sit still – a rare thing – while Calleigh weaved her golden hair into French braids.

Impatient for a story, Aubrey flipped the book in Calleigh's lap open and read the title page with ease.

"Are you going to read to me?" Calleigh asked, smiling proudly.

"Uh-huh, I know lots of words."

With a finger carefully following along, Aubrey began reading, getting through the first several pages with only slight difficulty. Halfway through, she was tired and concentrating less, so when she encountered a few words she didn't know, she began to make up her own story. Calleigh laughed, listening to her daughter piece together the pictures and the words she could make out until, with a little help from her overactive imagination, she'd formed some crazy story. Calleigh would've helped her read the actual story, but she wasn't even four-and-a-half yet, and Calleigh wouldn't dare squelch such an imagination.

As Aubrey rambled on, Calleigh found herself feeling something she'd been denying for nearly seven months. She wished Eric could see this. She knew that he did, knew that he read to her just as often as she did, but she wished she could share _this_ moment with him. It was a strange feeling, and she didn't know how to deal with it, so she pushed it out of her thoughts as she swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Are you ready to call Daddy?" Calleigh asked after the long bout of storytelling.

Nodding sleepily, Aubrey rested her head on her mother's shoulder. Calleigh reached over to the nightstand for her cell phone and dialed Eric's familiar number, handing the phone to Aubrey while it rang.

At the sound of his voice on the other end of the line, Aubrey smiled. "Hi, Daddy."

"Hey, princess." Calleigh could hear his voice as she wrapped her arms around Aubrey and pulled her close, resting her own head atop her daughter's. "You all tucked into bed?"

"Yeah," Aubrey said softly, rubbing at her eyes tiredly. "With Mommy."

"I hear you have a new favorite animal."

"The shark!" Aubrey exclaimed, her tiredness wearing off for a mere moment of excitement. "He was really big! Bigger than you! Can I have one?"

"A tiger shark?" Eric chuckled at her innocence. "Where would we keep him?"

"The pool," she replied, a yawn escaping her lips as she rested her head against Calleigh again.

"I think he's a little big for that, Princesa. And a little too mean." He smiled, figuring she probably didn't care. "He needs to live in salt water anyways, like in the ocean."

"Oh." Aubrey sighed, barely able to keep her eyes open.

"What else did you see today?"

Not hearing a response, Calleigh pulled back slightly to look down, finding Aubrey sleeping against her arm. The phone was slowly easing out of her quickly-loosening grip and Calleigh took it from her carefully, taking a deep breath before holding it up to her own ear.

"Hey, Eric?" she said softly, biting her lip. "I'm sorry, she fell asleep… She was really tired after today."

"That's okay, I don't blame her," he said from the other end of the line, running a hand through his short hair as he leaned back into his favorite recliner. "Sounds like she had a big day."

"Yeah, I'm sorry," Calleigh apologized again. "I'll have her call you in the morning."

"Yeah, I'll just talk to her tomorrow. It's okay, Cal," he assured, the nickname accidentally slipping past his lips. He mentally kicked himself.

It wasn't okay. She felt incredibly guilty, and not just because Aubrey was too tired to talk to him tonight. She felt guilty because he wasn't here, because they weren't here together for their daughter. How was depriving her of time with both of them the best option? She knew it was better than the alternative, but she still felt terrible. This wasn't how things were supposed to be. The one thing they'd promised each other they'd never do was fall apart.

"I'll, uh, be around in the morning tomorrow, if you want to call then. I don't have the early call-out," Eric said. He was completely unsure of how to speak to her without the topic of Aubrey as a buffer.

"Okay."

"Have a good night," he wished her, the words seeming far too impersonal.

"You too." She smiled sadly, hating that they had come to this.

The phone clicked off and she was suddenly faced with the task of moving Aubrey without waking her. She carefully pried herself away and gradually lowered Aubrey onto the pillows with minimal disturbance.

"Goodnight. I love you," she said softly, pressing a kiss to her daughter's temple and pulling the sheets over the rest of her body. "I'm sorry," she added in a whisper.

Quietly padding across her daughter's room, she paused at the doorway, flooded with a memory she couldn't repress even if she tried.

_The emptiness on his side of the bed had eventually awoken her. She remembered the baby crying, and she'd opened her eyes long enough to see the clock glowing with a red '11:32pm.' Eric had sleepily mumbled that he'd get Aubrey and Calleigh had fallen back asleep easily. But now he still wasn't back, and as her bleary eyes settled on the clock she realized it was after midnight._

_Sighing, she drew herself from the bed, feet meeting the cold hardwood floor as she walked across their room and down the hallway._

_She was almost certain she was still dreaming when she saw the most perfect picture laid out before her. Eric had fallen asleep in the large wooden rocker situated in the corner of Aubrey's room. Aubrey was in his arms, comfortably asleep against his chest, some frilly pink blanket covering the both of them._

_Calleigh pressed her fingers against her mouth with a grin as she admired the scene. She was tempted to let them be, but she knew his back would be killing him by morning if she didn't do something._

_Quietly walking over, she placed a hand on the baby's back supportively and rested another hand on Eric's shoulder, slowly sliding it across his bare skin. For a moment she studied the both of them, smiling as she noticed what everyone seemed to upon looking at all three of them – Aubrey was an exact mix of them both. Genetically, it made sense considering incomplete dominance and all, but it still amazed her. Golden blonde-brown curls were already becoming an unruly mess, and her fair skin was beginning to take on darker olive undertones just like her father's._

"_Eric," Calleigh finally whispered softly, his eyelids fluttering. "I'm going to lay her back down."_

_He mumbled something incoherent and she laughed a little, very carefully easing Aubrey into her own arms. With the expertise of a mother who had been doing this a while, she cradled the one-year-old in her arms as though she were still a tiny baby and delicately laid her back down in the crib._

_She turned to Eric, who was only slightly more awake now, and smiled amusedly. "Come on, I'll tuck you in, too," she said softly, taking his large hands in her smaller ones._

"_Mmm," was all he could manage before he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. Sighing, he breathed in the familiar scent of her shampoo as he buried his face into her hair. Cuddling up to her as though they were already in bed, he hugged her side, making the walk back to their bedroom an awkward one full of hushed laughter and near-falls._

_As they neared the bed he merely fell onto it, bringing Calleigh toppling with him in a fit of protests and then laughter. He immediately sighed contentedly as he pulled her warm body against his, legs intertwining. She smiled back at him as he settled into bed again, the skin-on-skin contact reawakening her in more ways than one._

"_Eric," she said softly, her eyes darkening as her leg slid against his suggestively. Biting her lip in a manner that was purely seductive, she grinned devilishly, wrapping her leg around his tightly to push her hips against his. "How tired are you?"_

_He raised a brow, finding her lips, fair skin, and tiny, tiny shorts far more appealing than the comforts of slumber. Grinning, his hand curled around her upper arm as he eased his weight onto her, gradually pinning her beneath him._

"_Not very," he mumbled as his lips brushed against hers. She laughed into the kiss, running her hands over his toned shoulders as she arched her body to press against his._

Reining in her mind, she flicked off the light and headed for her own bed, denying what she was really missing. She refused to acknowledge that she ached to have his arms around her again. She didn't want to miss him; missing him would mean ignoring the past two years.

She forced herself to shut off all emotion. Functioning on autopilot, she unclipped her hair and tucked herself into bed alone. As she slid a hand beneath her cheek, the delicate stone on her ring finger pressed into her face uncomfortably. Annoyed by the constant reminder, she sighed, stretching her hand out in front of her in the dark. The beautiful stone caught the moonlight and she swallowed hard. With an unsure hand she slid the platinum wedding band and engagement ring from her finger, dropping them into the drawer of her nightstand.

Devoid of all emotion, she flexed her fingers and marveled at the emptiness.


	2. Sky Is Falling

**Author's Note:** I haven't even had a chance to reply to all the reviews because I've been writing like crazy! Great for me and you guys... Bad for my homework. But oh well! Thank you all so, so much for all of the wonderful reviews! Just a little note - the flashbacks will sometimes correspond, or be in the same timeframe, and sometimes they won't. They also won't be in order, so I usually include a hint through Aubrey's age or just what's going on at the time so you know. Hope you enjoy! This chapter _starts_ to explain things, but definitely doesn't cover it all. Also, it's somewhat unedited...so I'm sorry for anything terrible you may find.

* * *

_And I am short on words knowing what's occurred _

_She begins to leave because of me _

_Her bag is now much heavier_

_I wish that I could carry her _

_But this is our ungodly hour_

Sighing, Eric turned over for the hundredth time that night. He would blame his trouble sleeping on the lingering sleep-wake cycle he'd developed while on the night shift, but somewhere in the deeper recesses of his mind he knew the insomnia stemmed from something much different. If it wasn't regret, longing, or emotional turmoil, it was the simple notion of being in a completely different household than his daughter. It didn't feel right, and while he wholly trusted Calleigh – probably more so than himself, actually – with Brie, not having her sound asleep next to him or in the next room left him more than a little unsettled.

Rolling onto his back and, subsequently, onto another pillow, he felt an uncomfortable lump beneath his head. Furrowing his brows, he reached underneath the pillow, not altogether unsurprised to find a stray stuffed animal lingering in his bed.

Smiling a little, he cradled the soft, floppy stuffed bunny in his hand like a baseball and then tossed it a few feet in the air. Catching it, he repeated the motion. It was about as fruitless as counting sheep, but at least it gave his restless body an outlet.

Try as he might, he couldn't make sense of any of this situation. He and Calleigh had made sense from Day One. Everything had just fit together, which surprised him considering they'd been friends for ten years. It just happened; as his somewhat promiscuous tendencies had faded away, their ever-present attraction for each other had suddenly lined up with their needs in a relationship. Suddenly he'd wanted her, and not just in a physical way. He'd wanted to take her home to his mother, had wanted to marry her and have a bunch of blonde-haired, green-eyed babies with her. Everything had fallen into place. Once they'd gotten past her distrust of "forever" everything had been easy. Simple.

And then piece by piece, stressor by stressor, things had piled up. Everything became so complicated that he began wondering how the hell it had ever been so easy. Maybe she had been right. Maybe forever was an illusion.

He was losing his faith. He knew they'd made mistakes, but still… If everything they'd ever done had been for each other, where had they gone wrong?

_Calleigh was pacing the hallway of the sketchy apartment building, Kevlar vest secured around her small frame. Her heart was racing and all she could think about was how she was going to kill Eric when this was all over. Why did he have to be such a good guy? She needed a husband right now, not a martyr._

"_Horatio," Calleigh called out, her voice breaking. "We have to do something. This guy's a loose cannon." There was no way in hell she was letting her year-and-a-half old baby grow up without a father._

"_We'll get him out," Horatio assured. His eyes never left the tiny computer screen as SWAT set up infrared. "We have to do this by the book as much as possible, however, or you and I both know Stetler will be here at the first crack of a gunshot." He looked at her with knowing eyes and she immediately understood the hidden meaning in his words. The team had been under close scrutiny as of late, and it was all because of them. Professionalism had been questioned and the fine lines of those "pending" rules regarding fraternization among co-workers had never been more blurred._

_Her eyes remained on his steadily with a certain intensity he'd never before seen. When she finally looked away, it was to direct her gaze toward the infrared screen and her heart jumped into her throat._

"_He has a gun on Eric," she let out in a hushed, panicked tone. Her eyes swam across the screen disbelievingly, fighting to keep her heart from beating right out of her chest._

"_Okay," Horatio said definitively, trying to maintain composure as his own heartbeat quickened. "Where is the hostage?"_

"_Other side of the room," Calleigh answered, seeing an additional blur of orange and red on the screen. "We need to get in there, H. His stance is growing more threatening."_

_All conscious thought left her as she, Ryan, and SWAT geared up, checking vests and weapons as they moved closer to the door. Everything happened in a blur as they breached the perimeter, Horatio at the screen to monitor the situation and check for signs of advancing aggression._

_At the sudden entrance, the suspect nearly flipped and closed in on Eric with the gun. Calleigh had to take a deep breath to keep her mind on her police training. Her heart, as much as it burned and ached right now, had to stay out of this or they would suffer the consequences. Or worse, someone else would, too._

"_No clear shot," Calleigh whispered into her headset. "Hostage is directly behind the suspect at this angle."_

_Reading between her words, Horatio stiffened. "Calleigh, you do not move from behind the pack. You spook this guy and he's going to turn on you."_

"_I'm quicker," she said knowingly._

"_That's not a theory I want to test," came the fatherly voice of reason through her headset. "Calleigh, you do this and I may not be able to hold IAB off anymore." She pressed her lips together tightly, and as the suspect drew closer in on Eric with potentially loaded threats Eric's eyes spotted a familiar light blonde ponytail among all the black uniforms of SWAT._

_His first thought was simply her name, and his second was a ripe curse word because had their positions been reversed, he would not trust himself with a gun right now._

_Calleigh's eyes darkened considerably as they met Eric's. Not letting herself become distracted, she quickly averted her gaze back to the suspect. He tightened his grip around the gun and, with purposeful aim, he centered it on Eric._

"_Calleigh," Horatio warned again, sensing the direness of the situation. "We're getting a sniper set up outside. Wait for him or a clear shot."_

_But there was no time to wait. Her eyes were glued to the suspect, and the moment his finger tightened around the trigger, she stepped from beyond the protection of SWAT shields just far enough to get a questionably clear shot._

_In a blur her gun popped, lodging a bullet straight into the perpetrator's chest. Shoot to kill, just as she'd been trained. Making herself an open target, however, was an action far from protocol and solely based on instinct._

_SWAT moved in, disarming the suspect even as he bled out onto the dingy apartment floor. His eyes glazed over and her eyes were fixed on him for only a moment before she shifted her gaze to Eric. Chaos ensued around them as Horatio tended to the hostage, but Calleigh and Eric could only stand completely still, remaining ten feet from one another. Their eyes both softened, each knowing she'd broken protocol and ignored fifteen years of training. She had done something he never, ever would've expected her to do. It was against her way of thinking and simply not in her personality to do something rash, and each knew she'd crossed a line for which they would suffer the repercussions._

_She looked down only to secure her weapon and tuck it into her holster. Everyone in that room would've done the same thing, would've risked their lives on honed instincts to save another cop, but none of them were married to the man at the other end of the suspect's barrel. Because of that, _she _looked like a loose cannon, and she knew that this time IAB wouldn't back down. Horatio had warned her to stay away from this, but she couldn't. And now, in one quick action, she'd crossed that very fine yet blurred line between having a co-worker's back and protecting a lover._

_When she looked back up at Eric, there was a fire in her eyes that revealed she would never regret it._

* * *

Eric stepped through the doorway into Firearms, finding her perched on the edge of a stool, jotting notes down in a file. She'd ditched the suit jackets she'd been favoring lately, at least for a day, and a white sleeveless blouse loosely hugged her delicate frame. The ruffles down the front did little in the way of hiding the weight she'd lost, but despite her thinner frame she still looked gorgeous.

"You paged?" he asked, and when she looked up at him with wide, green eyes he saw so much of Aubrey there along with a little of what could've been.

"Yeah, I test fired the .45 in the Goodwin case," she said, handing him the results. "No match, but I ran it through IBIS and the bullet I fired matches one from a convenience store robbery a year ago." Leaning forward, she shifted a few folders until she found the one she was looking for. "I dug up the case file for you."

He knew better than to read into the gesture; she would've done it for any other co-worker, but he was still thankful for it. At least she wasn't ignoring him now.

"Thank you." He smiled gratefully, though guarded, and under the harsh light she could see the darkness beneath his eyes. "While I'm here… I meant to ask you something. It's about Aubrey."

"Is everything okay?" she asked, immediately concerned.

"Yeah," Eric assured. Thumbing through the file, he tried to avoid her eyes. "She's just been a little…clingy lately. She won't sleep in her own bed when she's with me. I was just wondering if she was okay last night."

"Yeah, she was fine last night." Calleigh nodded, all business, but as she fixed her attention back on her paperwork the corners of her lips turned upward.

"What?" he questioned, smiling at _her_ smiling.

"Nothing," she insisted, though her eyes held the faintest trace of an amused gleam as she glanced back at him. "It's just… She's a daddy's girl. She has you wrapped around her finger."

"What, so you think she's playing me?" he asked disbelievingly, chuckling a little.

"Not _playing _you necessarily, but she's pretty diabolical for a four-year-old."

"Yeah, wonder where she gets that from," Eric said sarcastically, their eyes meeting briefly as she looked up from her work. This had been good – simple even – up until now. She stiffened slightly at the idea of them doing this…joking as parents but not a couple.

Sensing her discomfort, he drew in a deep breath and fished a clear evidence bag from his pocket. "Anyway, uh, Wolfe wanted me to bring this down."

Extending her hand, Calleigh held it between her middle fingers and studied the mangled bullet. "It's a 9 mil," she said after a moment. "It's pretty beat up, but I'll try to run it through… Lord, I don't think I'll ever make it into the field today."

It was supposed to be a light-hearted comment and she smiled, but she failed to receive any reaction from him. His eyes were glued to her hand – to the bullet, she thought – and she looked at him curiously.

Shaking his head slowly, he met her eyes dejectedly for a split second before walking away without another word. Puzzled, she rested her forearm on the counter and looked down, and it was only then that she noticed the near-white rings around her left ring finger signifying that something was missing. It was only then that she remembered tossing her rings into her nightstand the night before.

'_Damnit,'_ she thought, closing her eyes and sighing. Taking them off meant either of two things – that she really wanted them gone or that they were just too much of a reminder – and he would probably only consider one of those options.

"_So what are you saying?" he pressed, closing in on her in the kitchen. "What, you want a divorce?" There. He'd said it, and it felt just as bitter on his lips as he'd thought it would._

_But she didn't soften or hesitate at the word like he'd thought she would. Instead she steeled herself, and the emptiness with just a hint of anger in her eyes terrified him. "I don't know," she admitted, shaking her head and folding her arms over her chest as she leaned back against the counter. "All I'm saying is we can't go on like this. She will _not _grow up like this. You promised me that."_

_He scoffed, hands on his hips. "Yeah, and you promised me forever but I guess you're going back on that."_

_He regretted it the moment it left his lips, but he couldn't take it back. Her eyes watered despite her attempts to shut off all feeling and he suddenly remembered what he was dealing with. She was tired, stressed, emotional, and, he thought with a certain sadness, possibly hormonal still. She'd just gotten off an extremely long shift, it was eight o'clock at night, and he had to leave in thirty minutes._

"_Cal," he uttered quietly, his tone completely different. He hesitantly steeped towards her, resting his palms on the counter on either side of her body. "_Calleigh_." Finally, she looked at him, eyes only watering more. "I'm sorry."_

"_Me too," she uttered shakily._

"_I would do anything to keep you and Aubrey happy," he promised. "You know that." Hands on her waist now, he held her there, expecting their love to win out over the situation as always, expecting her to soften, uncurl her arms, and wrap them around his shoulders as she always did._

"_I know, so would I," she agreed wistfully, pressing her lips together and rolling them as a lone tear trailed down her cheek. "And that's what scares me."_

* * *

Calleigh was only half asleep, and so she stirred immediately at the muffled "mama" coming from the hallway. She sat up just in time to see her door swing further open in the dark, a silhouette of her daughter standing in the doorway.

"What's wrong, baby?" Calleigh asked, immediately pulling back the covers and ushering Aubrey in. Even in the dark, she sensed her daughter's tears and immediately pulled her into her arms. Aubrey curled up against her, tucking her face into her mother's shoulder where her muffled tears continued. Calleigh kissed her hair soothingly, running her fingers through the long curls and then resting a hand on Aubrey's back. Rubbing up and down, she tried to soothe her.

"Dream," Aubrey finally managed tearfully.

"What was in the dream?" Calleigh asked worriedly. Aubrey usually didn't get _this_ upset about the monsters and other things her overactive mind sometimes conjured up in her sleep. She pulled Aubrey closer, cradling her against her side like she had when she was a baby.

"Daddy took me to 'Buela's," she began, a sob and hiccup interrupting her. "And you were s'posed to get me but you didn't." She stopped again, and Calleigh felt a fresh batch of tears bathe her skin. "You never came…for me," she continued, a hiccup breaking apart her words…and Calleigh's heart. "You went away."

Feeling tears in her own eyes, Calleigh closed them and rested her head against her daughter's. She pulled the covers over the both of them, cradling Aubrey in a cocoon of warmth and comfort.

"I will _always_ come for you," she promised, kissing Aubrey's forehead. "And so will Daddy. We'll never go away."

As Aubrey cried herself out and fell asleep in Calleigh's arms, Calleigh realized this carefully constructed illusion had just been shattered. Was this really any better?

* * *

Calleigh put on a good show, but Clorinda knew better. She saw the exhaustion in her daughter-in-law's movements. She noticed the red-rimmed eyelids circling her dull green eyes. She watched the way Calleigh hugged Aubrey extra tight and whispered something – a promise, it seemed – into the little girl's ear.

Aubrey scurried off happily to her makeshift playroom, but Calleigh's eyes lingered worriedly. She took in a deep breath, collecting herself, and when she found Clorinda watching her she smiled. It was almost convincing, but Clorinda wasn't buying it.

"Calleigh," she began, leveling with her. "You have to talk to someone." She knew that Calleigh's family certainly wouldn't be of any help, and Clorinda seriously doubted Calleigh would disclose such information to anyone else. For the past five years they had been her family, and Clorinda wasn't about to let a separation change that.

"I'm okay," Calleigh insisted, but Clorinda was already tugging her by the arm into the kitchen. Conceding, Calleigh took a seat at the small table there and a moment later Eric's mother had a mug of hot coffee in front of them both.

Calleigh hesitated at first, watching the steam curl into the air as she busied herself with emptying a spoonful of sugar into the dark liquid. "She's different," she finally said, shaking her head disbelievingly. "She has bad dreams about me not coming for her, Eric said she's been clingy…" Tears sprang to her eyes again but she reined her emotions in this time and bit her lip. "She's different."

"Of course she is." Clorinda's words weren't at all accusatory. She was simply understanding, and she placed a supportive hand on Calleigh's forearm. "You're her parents. Everything you do affects her."

"I know," Calleigh agreed, meeting the older woman's eyes emotionally. "But like this? This isn't how it's supposed to be."

"No, mija," Clorinda said, her voice growing even more tender. "A lot of things weren't though."

_As Eric walked Aubrey back home from the park he had been excited to see Calleigh's huge SUV in the driveway, but now he couldn't find her anywhere in the house. With an exhausted toddler in his arms, he finally found Calleigh as he stepped into their bedroom. It was only six o'clock, but she was already buried under the covers in comfortable clothes, legs curled up against her stomach._

_His eyes met hers and for once in her life she just wanted to slink back under the covers and not deal with the rest of the day. She didn't want to do this, didn't want to tell him. It was unbearable to be disappointed, but it was a completely different matter to disappoint someone you loved._

"_Hey," he greeted as he set Brie down on the floor. Walking over to the bed, he slid his warm hand beneath Calleigh's chin and softly kissed her lips. "Everything okay?"_

"_Yeah, I just don't feel very well," she answered, immediately hating herself for the glint of hope in his eyes. "It's not…" she began, shaking her head. "I, um… I have cramps."_

"_Are you sure?" he asked, still hopeful. "You had those ligament stretching cramps with Aubrey…"_

"_Eric," she uttered, a harsh, hope-dashing tone to her voice. "I'm not."_

"_Oh," he let out, finally understanding. "Well there's no rush… We have time." He took a seat beside her on the bed, watching as Aubrey found a stray book left atop the wooden chest. She plopped down with it on the floor and opened it up, looking as intently as a two-year-old could at pictures of farm animals._

"_We've been saying that for six months," she pointed out dejectedly. "I was pregnant with Aubrey right away."_

"_Yeah, we were really lucky then," he agreed, placing an encouraging hand on her hip. "Lots of couples have to wait a while though, Cal."_

"_Yeah, but I'm thirty-seven now," she whispered, finally voicing her worst fear. "What if I can't…"_

_She couldn't finish that sentence, couldn't meet his eyes, couldn't even watch their daughter… She didn't want to consider what they might not have again._

_Looking at her worriedly, he kicked his shoes off and curled up behind her, curving his body around hers. "Lots of women have babies into their forties," he reminded her, kissing her shoulder and glancing over at Aubrey. "And if that doesn't happen for us there are other options…"_

_Awkwardly, Aubrey stood up on her tiny legs and dragged the book that was half her size over to them. She reached her arms up, pushing the book onto their high bed expectantly._

"_Mama?" she called out, and Calleigh's eyes watered. Giving in, she pushed up and slid towards the edge of the bed. Slipping her hands beneath Aubrey's arms, she gently picked her up and cradled her against her body, marveling at her small size. She wanted this again – wanted a little baby with hints of dark hair and Cuban skin._

_Settling in against the headboard with Aubrey between her legs, she opened the book in their laps and began helping Aubrey identify animals._

"_I have to go to work," Eric said regretfully. He leaned over, lovingly kissing Aubrey's cheek and Calleigh's temple._

_As he disappeared into the walk-in closet to change, she whispered, "One of us always does."_


	3. So Hard

**A/N:** First off, I'm SORRY this is so, so sad. I hope the sadness isn't deterring anyone. At the risk of losing some suspense, I'll assure you all that it will get better, I promise. But it's a process, and the sad flashbacks have to come so you know what's happened.

Secondly, sorry it's a bit shorter than usual. I was supposed to write a British Romantic (capital R of course – sorry, English major joke) Lit paper this weekend, but I opened a word doc and suddenly the names Eric and Calleigh appeared on the page and well… the "paper1" doc had to be renamed "ch3." Eventually I had to make myself stop writing, but it felt pretty complete as a chapter. So here you go. :) Also: This updating pace won't continue this week. I have a lot of homework and I'll be out of town for my four days of fall break next weekend.

* * *

_Back when we started_

_We didn't know how hard it was_

_Living on nothing_

_But what the wind would bring to us_

_Now we've got something_

_I can imagine fighting for_

_So why is fighting all that we're good at anymore?_

She didn't want to do this. She didn't want to confront her own fears, frustrations, and disappointments in someone else's eyes, but she had to. Tossing the file down onto the glossy black surface of the interrogation table, she took a seat across from the stone-faced woman.

Frank had been at this for hours, interrogating the wife of the victim's lover. But he didn't know what buttons to push, what emotional turmoil to bring up. Calleigh did. While she couldn't identify with the woman, her cheating husband, or her actions, she could certainly sympathize with her in one way.

She didn't know if she could handle this. She had to push another woman to the brink of something she herself wouldn't dare go near.

Steeling herself, she opened the file of evidence photos.

"Mrs. Harlow," she began, voice even. "Sarah Murdoch was pregnant." She laid a photo out before the woman – a close up of a positive pregnancy test found in the victim's trash – and slowly slid it towards her. "I think you knew."

"So my husband knocked up his mistress," Mrs. Harlow spat out bitterly. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"We looked into your finances," Calleigh said, thumbing through papers until she found a bank statement. "You saw a fertility specialist two years ago. You aren't able to have children, are you?"

Mrs. Harlow's eyes watered, never leaving the photo of that damned pregnancy test. "She ruined everything."

This was the least rewarding confession Calleigh had ever coerced out of anyone. She felt dizzy and weak, and she was gone from the room the minute booking officers came for the suspect. Air couldn't seem to satiate her lungs. Every breath she took was shallow, labored.

The locker room offered moderate privacy and she discreetly dashed inside, leaning against her locker to press her the heated skin of her forehead against the cool metal.

---

_It was after five in the morning when she heard the familiar sounds of her husband moving about the room – the rustle of clothing as he slipped out of work clothes, the running water of the sink. Finally, the bed gently dipped and his warmth encompassed her. She'd barely slept at all._

_He wasn't completely unsurprised when she turned towards him, obviously awake._

"_Hey," she whispered, her voice rough. Her eyes hesitantly met his, as if they'd lost something in all this time apart._

"_Hey," he uttered back, smiling a little. "Good morning."_

"_Goodnight," she joked. His arms wrapped around her small frame so he could pull her close. They hadn't seen each other much at all that week; it was wearing on them both. "You're gorgeous, but you look tired."_

_She smiled sadly, tucking her head in its familiar spot beneath his. "I'm exhausted."_

_He didn't want to get his hopes up – or hers – but he knew she didn't usually get run-down like this. Lately she did more often, but still… Her first pregnancy symptom with Aubrey had been the fatigue. It was hard not to wonder._

_She could practically hear the gears in his head turning and she sighed. "I'm sorry, don't read into that… Work's just been crazy and I haven't been sleeping well."_

"_Still might be worth taking a test, just in case," he said softly, immediately regretting it when she pushed away from him._

"_I'm not taking a test." She wasn't even angry this time, just firm and insistent. She was closing off._

"_Okay," he agreed, and he'd wanted to reach out for her but she was already swinging her legs over the side of the bed._

"_The problem isn't that I'm pregnant," she continued, a harsh edge to her words. "The problem is that I'm _not_ pregnant."_

"_Cal," he whispered. His hand grazed the small of her back, encouraging her to give into the comfort of his supportive embrace, but she shrugged off his touch and stood._

"_No, don't," she insisted, her voice breaking slightly with the weight of tears she'd never shed. "It's been ten months. I don't want to be upset about it anymore. Maybe Aubrey is all we're supposed to have."_

_If that had ever been what they'd wanted, he may have agreed. But since the day he'd finally got her talking about kids, they'd always talked in the plural. She wanted three because she'd been lonely even with a sister, and he wanted an entire house full. They were meant to have that and he knew it, but the circumstances weren't exactly ideal. They'd had their differences as of late, mostly because they worked opposite schedules, and she was constantly stressed about work, about him being out in the field during the dangerous nights, and about both of them getting enough time with their daughter._

_He knew, by her distance and her tone of voice, that she was giving up._

"_I don't think you believe that for a second," he said honestly._

_But she was silent. In the dark he could just barely make out the silhouette of her small frame changing into running shorts, a sports bra, and a tank top. She laced up her running shoes, rested her elbows on her thighs, and for just a moment allowed her head to fall into her hands. She would let her guard down for only that moment, finally admitting, "I'm starting to."_

* * *

Calleigh hadn't cared how crazy she'd looked running at full speed through the crime lab's lobby and parking lot. And she certainly didn't care that she was speeding down the causeway now, making rather illegal use of her red and blue lights. All she cared about was getting to the hospital.

Halfway through Clorinda's message she'd begun to panic, and she'd only been able to make out something about Aubrey falling from the playground, a cut on her forehead, and the part where she'd _really_ begun to panic: something about stitches.

She just barely avoided other cars in the hospital parking lot as she swung into the first space available. Rushing through the emergency room lobby, she rested her palms anxiously on the desk as she waited for the far too laid back receptionist to get off the phone.

"I'm looking for my daughter, Aubrey Delko."

"Oh, Mrs. Delko. Your husband just got here," the woman said, and Calleigh was far too panicked to make sense of how it felt to be referred to that way. "Room 213."

With hasty, long walking strides she was there in an instant, finding Clorinda and Eric standing around a bed much too big for Aubrey. And there, in the middle of everything, was her baby with an ugly gash atop her beautiful face.

"Mama!" Aubrey was grinning sheepishly, the way Eric often had when he'd done or said something he probably shouldn't have.

Calleigh sighed with relief, and smiled reassuringly at her daughter as she came over. For once, she stood next to Eric without noticing how close they were. She was too focused on Aubrey, too worried, to notice that her arm brushed against his as she reached out for Aubrey.

"What happened, baby? Are you okay? Does it hurt?"

She immediately realized those were far too many questions for a four-year-old, so when Aubrey answered "no" she assumed it was to the last question, if the smile on her face was any indication.

Eric had to smile as Calleigh kissed their daughter's uninjured temple, leaving a trace of red lip gloss there. It had been a long time since he'd seen the two of them interact, and it pulled at him in a way he wasn't at all prepared to deal with. Calleigh as an overly concerned, overprotective parent was – and she'd kill him for this – rather adorable. He could only be so amused, though, because he'd had an equally embarrassing reaction a few minutes ago.

"What happened?" Calleigh asked again, her eyes darting from Eric to Clorinda as she held Aubrey close.

Eric looked at his mother and, with an amused smile, glanced back at Calleigh and Aubrey. "You should really hear this from her."

Raising her brows, Calleigh's gaze drifted down to Aubrey and she pulled away just enough to see her face. "What happened at the playground?"

"Well, "Aubrey began, already getting all huffy about it. "Abuela dropped me off at playgroup. We were playing monkey on the monkey bars."

"What's monkey?" Calleigh had to interject, a puzzled expression on her face.

"You hang on the bars and try to kick at other people so they drop down," she explained, Calleigh's eyes widening in disbelief. Games including bodily harm were intense even for her rough-and-tumble, tiger shark loving four-year-old girl. With a concerned glance at Clorinda and Eric, Calleigh shook her head and focused her eyes back on Aubrey skeptically. "I was winning!" Aubrey added as if that made it better, throwing her hands up emphatically. "But then this stupid big kid came over and pushed me and I fell…"

Eric had to chuckle a little at her calling another child a "kid" as if she weren't one herself. Calleigh must've noticed the same thing because she looked up at him, smiling knowingly, her eyes lingering on him.

"Brie, I agree that what he did was very stupid," Calleigh began, gaze drifting to the dried blood on her baby's face. "But let's not call him stupid because that's not very nice, okay?"

"Okay, I guess," Aubrey conceded with a look at her father, who'd had to bite back more than a few choice words at her first recollection of the story.

"And you are _never_ playing that game again." Sighing, Calleigh collected Aubrey's hair in her hands and delicately pulled it to one side to look at the gash along her hairline.

"The doctor will be in to do stitches in a few minutes," Eric explained, hesitantly meeting Calleigh's eyes. "It's not too deep. She'll just need a few."

"Are they sure she's okay? Did they do an MRI?" Calleigh asked worriedly, taking a seat on the bed as Aubrey climbed into her lap.

"No," Eric said, holding back amused laughter. But he had no trouble being serious once he focused on Calleigh's eyes, her proximity doing a number on him. "But she's fine. The bars weren't that high and my mom said the playground had cedar chips, so that's probably what cut her."

"Okay." She wasn't convinced, but she trusted that Eric had probably grilled the doctors and nurses already.

Aubrey, however, was completely transfixed by the idea of her parents in the same room again. She looked between them curiously, completely unaccustomed to having them _both_ with her at the same time.

Reaching up to Eric for a hug, she grinned expectantly and he had no choice but to oblige. Despite trying not to touch Calleigh, his hand brushed her thigh and his arm slid against hers again as he easily picked Aubrey up. Luckily, he hadn't touched bare skin. If he had, the sensation might have been too much to take.

He tried not to think about it, but there was no denying the distinct, familiar scent of Calleigh currently greeting his senses. He pulled back quickly, eager to keep the memories at bay, and stood with Aubrey seated in his strong arms.

A few minutes later she was back on the exam bed, Calleigh and Eric watching uncomfortably as the doctor sewed up the gash. It was taking everything in Eric not to give the doctor a piece of his mind every time Aubrey winced or gave the doctor an evil look.

Aubrey was squeezing Calleigh's hand as though it were a lifeline. As hard of a time as he thought he was having, Calleigh seemed to be doing worse. Her eyes were watery, her body tense, and her free hand was curled into a nervous fist and pressed against her mouth as though waiting with bated breath.

"She's okay, Cal," he assured her softly on instinct. His voice was soothing and he hesitantly placed a supportive hand on her shoulder. Just for a moment, he thought he felt her lean into his touch.

---

_The walls of the narrow hallway seemed to be closing in on him more and more the further he went. He'd never had a problem with hospitals, not even after gunshot wounds and brain surgery, but now he felt the cold sterility of them full-force._

_He couldn't help but think that the last time they'd been here they'd been welcoming a life, not mourning one. Back then this very hospital had seemed like such a different place._

_Three weeks ago she'd come to him, disbelieving and awestruck, with two positive pregnancy tests in hand. They'd been unsure at first, after eleven long months, but she'd cried emotional tears of relief. He'd hugged her and kissed her while all those stupid, meaningless fears about infertility and only one child had floated off into the breeze._

_A baby wasn't a be-all, end-all; they had their fair share of work-related stressors and subsequent marital problems, mainly with working opposite schedules, but this was a catalyst for change. A chance to reevaluate priorities and reconsider schedules._

_And then thirty minutes ago he'd received the call. In her strained voice he'd only heard his name and something about the baby, and if he read between her words he could find the dreaded 'm' word she couldn't bring herself to say._

_He found her, looking unusually small and fragile, sitting at the edge of the bed and gazing down at the floor. She didn't look up when he came into the room, but her mouth tightened slightly, and she looked away. Knowing that her actions – the lack of eye contact, her lips sealed together – were all signs of her desperately trying to control her emotions, he approached her slowly._

_There were no words. He gripped her waist delicately and then slid his arms around her, feeling just how tightly contorted her whole body was. And then she shook as he secured her in his embrace, his lips brushing against her temple._

_She gradually gave in, her arms wrapping around his strong shoulders until her hands cradled the back of his neck. He felt her body go lax against his as she crumbled, and it broke his heart that his tough-as-nails wife was clinging to him the same way their three year old often did._

_---_

_She couldn't stop, not even for a day. If she did, if she took a day off to lie in bed and dwell on the loss, then she was afraid she might never get back up. She needed to be at work. She wanted to throw herself headfirst into a case and not think about yesterday. She needed to get away from Eric, who was so loving and patient and hopeful and perfect – everything she was not._

_He was completely surprised to find her not only out of bed, but also showered with blow-dried hair, perfect make-up, and work clothes on. She met his eyes in the bathroom mirror briefly before averting them, focusing on fastening her earrings._

"_You're going to work?" he scoffed, and she could hear the complete disdain in his voice._

"_Yeah." Her voice was empty and she stepped around him, ignoring the plate of food in his hands._

"_Calleigh," he began hesitantly. "Is that a good idea?"_

"_It's a better idea than sitting around," she answered, the slightest bit angry._

_He sighed, holding onto his patience only because he knew her anger wasn't truly directed at him. "At least eat something. Aubrey was begging for pancakes, and I brought you some."_

"_Thanks," she said softly, but it wasn't sincere. Her stomach was already churning just at the thought of food, and the smell wasn't helping. "I'm not hungry though."_

_Setting the plate down, he walked towards her and placed his hands on her hips, roughly stopping her from dashing around like crazy as she got ready. "Cal, come on," he urged, holding her tighter as she tried to step out of his grasp. "You're supposed to be taking it easy and resting."_

"_Why?" she demanded, her eyes finally meeting his. He almost wished they hadn't, because behind the tears welling there was nothing but emptiness. "So I can get better, we can try again for another year, and I can miscarry again?" she spat back at him, her voice raised. She pushed his hands away from her, shaking her head. "I'm done with this."_

_She slipped on a pair of heels, and it was only then, as she turned towards the doorway, that she noticed Aubrey. With a mess of dark blonde curls, a floppy bunny at her side, and watery eyes, she made Calleigh's heart ache._

"_Mama, why are you mad?"_

_In that moment her worst fear had come true. She was seeing her childhood repeated in her own family. She saw herself in Aubrey, terrified and confused, wondering what she'd done to make everyone so upset. Calleigh would do anything to keep Aubrey from ever feeling that again._


	4. All We Are

**Author's Note: **I actually had this ready the day I was leaving, but it needed a little bit of editing so I had to hold off on posting it. :) I felt so bad about holding out on yall that I made my boyfriend go somewhere with wifi to get this posted for you guys. Hope you like it!

_I had no idea that the night_

_Would take so damn long_

_Took it out, on the street_

_While the rain still falls_

_Push me back to you_

Calleigh had to admit that it was nice to see him around work again. She wasn't exactly sure what that admittance meant, but seeing him around the lab brought her back to simpler times, times when it was just them working on a case, fighting off a few stolen glances and a whole lot of sexual tension. In these brief moments she felt comforted by the sight of him, felt just like she had before when they were young and everything was simple.

And then the weight of the past few years came crashing back to her, startling her back into reality, and she only felt a dull ache when she looked at him, especially when they were in the same room. It was awkward and uncomfortable, and she couldn't ever seem to relax.

If she were being completely honest, she wasn't altogether sure that working with Eric was a good idea. She knew - and Horatio seemed to know - that even though their "conflict of interest" was technically resolved, as far as IAB was concerned, there would never be a true resolution for them. Feelings don't change; they just get lost among all else, easier to hide.

That was why Eric could bring her ballistics evidence and they could pore over crime scene photos together, but Horatio had yet to send them out in the field as partners. They didn't apprehend suspects or enter dangerous situations with one another because, should a situation arise, it would never be as simple as two cops strategically managing a life-threatening situation. They would be distracted, thinking of a family instead of an individual.

It didn't matter that they were separated or that she'd taken her rings off; they could never go back.

Calleigh was unprepared and startled when Ryan entered the room. She seemingly jumped out of her daze, adjusting the hem of her blouse as she stepped towards the counter to focus on the photos.

Ryan hesitated, pausing just after he'd entered the doorway to study Calleigh's apparent state of distraction. Upon following the person her gaze had been directed towards, his face softened and he sighed, giving Calleigh some semblance of a smile as he moved closer.

She smiled reassuringly, mentally reprimanding herself for zoning out at work, and greeted him with a just slightly overzealous, "Hey."

"Hey," he replied, his tone much more realistic. "How's it going?"

"Good," she answered despite the fact that, since laying the photos out fifteen minutes ago, she had only just now glanced at them. Luckily, she had a well-trained eye. "These gravitational drops seem out of place... Did Natalia run that sample?"

"No, not yet," he said, his tone dropping slightly as he glanced at Eric through walls of glass, again following the path her eyes had just taken. He hesitated slightly, not knowing whether to broach this topic or not. He had kept his distance in the past, not wanting to say the wrong thing as he undoubtedly did sometimes and make a bad situation worse. But he had offered comfort throughout this separation, if only through a sympathetic smile or the simple normalcy of work. "Not really what I meant though..."

She followed his eyes, quickly averting them for fear of lingering too long again. Her lips straightened into what was supposed to be a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Ryan."

"Okay." He understood that, as usual, she didn't want to talk about the matter, but was politely thankful for the concern. He gave her an out. "Worried about Aubrey?"

She smiled gratefully, latching onto his diversion. "Yes. How'd you hear already?"

"Eric had to sign off on a file early this morning, so he dropped by here with her before he took her to his mom's," Ryan explained, smiling a little as he recalled Aubrey's enthusiasm at seven in the morning. "She was showing off her battle wound."

Calleigh sighed, rolling her eyes. "She's going to give me a heart attack someday."

"You and Eric both," Ryan said, laughing a little as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I believe there was talk of putting her in a bubble."

Calleigh laughed for a moment, a welcome repose, but at the mention of Eric her eyes changed slightly. "He's a good dad," she noted, and though she meant it lightly there was a wistful tone to her voice she couldn't disguise.

- - -

_A chill greeted her as she emerged from the steamy bathroom, the towel wrapped around her damp body doing nothing to shield her from the chilly air conditioning in the house. She was pleasantly surprised to find Eric still in a thin tank and track pants, seated in the middle of the bed with an eight-month-old Aubrey._

_"What are you doing?" Calleigh asked, not nearly as concerned as she should've been. She was smiling, obviously amused. "We have to be at work soon."_

_Completely ignoring work, Eric grinned up at her. "I think she's finally got it."_

_Calleigh watched on curiously as Eric gently seated Aubrey a few feet away from him on the bed. Frustrated, she held her arms out for him, her full lips forming an adorable pout._

_"Dada!" she shrieked, moving forward onto her hands and knees to awkwardly crawl towards him._

_Calleigh's heart melted and, if the look in Eric's eyes was any indication, he'd just turned into a pile of mush. Aubrey had been babbling syllables for months, but she was just beginning to associate them with people and objects._

_"Our baby's a genius," he announced proudly, lifting her by the sides and pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek. He held her against his chest and tickled her belly, eliciting a round of adorable giggles. Calleigh took a seat next to him, one leg curled in, one hanging off the edge of the bed, and leaned into his side. She rested her chin on his shoulder, her wet hair draping over his arm, and Aubrey immediately reached out for her. She darted her eyes between both parents, finally focusing on Calleigh as Calleigh delicately grasped her tiny hand._

_"Mama?"_

_Calleigh grinned proudly, carefully lifting her from Eric's arms and holding her against her side. "Good job, baby," she praised, bouncing her slightly._

_Eric watched on, completely entranced by the scene before him. He kissed Calleigh's shoulder, slipping an arm around her towel-covered waist, and marveling, as always, at the undeniable resemblance between mother and daughter. Aubrey was all Calleigh at this point - all sunny smiles, fair skin, and big green eyes. Everything about Aubrey was just _slightly_ darker, her skin naturally sun-kissed with golden hues, her eyes flecked with brown at the center, her sparse hair just a few shades short of Calleigh's platinum blonde._

_It amazed him. He didn't want to leave._

_"I think I have the flu today," he decided, cradling Aubrey's delicate head in the palm of his hand as he admired her._

_"Eric," Calleigh began without even a hint of the reprimanding she knew she should be giving him. "It's the middle of July."_

_"What, you've never heard of the summer flu?" he asked innocently, their positions now swapped as he rested his head on her shoulder._

_She laughed, shaking her head as she shifted Aubrey into her lap. With her free hand, she cupped his cheek and drew his lips to hers._

_Pressing her lips against his intimately, her bottom lip sandwiched between his lips, she kissed him softly. Tilting her head, she parted her lips, his tongue brushing against her mouth teasingly._

_"Not complaining," he mumbled against her lips as Aubrey's hand pressed against Calleigh's jaw for attention. "But what are you doing?"_

_"Catching the flu," she whispered, brushing her lips against his once again._

* * *

Normally Calleigh only stopped by Clorinda and Pavel's home to pick Aubrey up or drop her off, but worry had overcome her, particularly after spending the night apart. And so on her lunch break she found herself six miles from the crime lab, curled up under a blanket with Aubrey on Clorinda's couch. She'd planned on being assured that Aubrey was okay in lieu of eating lunch, but Clorinda had mumbled something about her being too skinny and insisted on feeding her.

Now she was far too full, and far too busy answering questions about whether she knew how to do hair like Cinderella's and why Cinderella wouldn't just leave her mean family and why she had slippers instead of "tall shoes."

They were so caught up in discussing the movie on the screen that Calleigh hadn't really thought much of the noises outside signaling someone's arrival until the front door was swinging open.

She was a little stunned to see Eric there in the doorway, though she shouldn't have been considering this _was_ his parents' home.

Raising his brows at the sight of them cuddled up on his mother's couch, he uttered a surprised, "Hey…"

Her body was far too busy processing nerves and guilt to notice the slight beginnings of a smile on his lips. He missed stumbling upon moments like these, and he was also amused to discover they'd had similar lunch plans.

"Daddy!" In a flash Aubrey had practically cannonballed off the sofa and was hugging his legs. Calleigh watched on as he scooped their daughter up effortlessly, admiring the two of them. He was still every bit the father she knew he would be. He was more, actually, not that she'd ever underestimated him… Witnessing it just brought it all to a completely different level.

As his eyes focused back on her she grew uncomfortable again. "I'm sorry," she said, nervously looking around. Despite Clorinda's warm, welcoming open-door policy, Calleigh suddenly felt as though she shouldn't be here.

She pushed the blanket from her body and sat up, smoothing her hands over her black dress pants anxiously.

"No, you're fine," Eric assured, gesturing for her to stay put. "I was just checking in on her and she's due for a new bandage…" he trailed off, seeing a fresh one already applied.

Calleigh bit her lip. "Sorry. I didn't know you were coming, too…"

"Quit apologizing." He had to laugh a little; it was just that awkward.

She smiled, too, looking up at him. "Sorry?" she offered jokingly, and he shook his head.

"Are you gonna finish Cinderella with me and Momma?" Aubrey asked, widening her hazel eyes hopefully as if she knew just how wrapped around her finger she had him.

Eric hesitated, glancing back at Calleigh.

"I'll go," she offered, already reaching for her purse. She'd known this was a bad idea. Hanging out with his family was awkward enough _without_ him around. Dealing with random run-ins at his mother's home on top of seeing him at work was too much. Being around him this frequently was becoming ambiguously unbearable.

"No, you should stay," he insisted, walking over towards her, Aubrey at his side in his arms. "I don't want you to miss out on time with her..."

She didn't either. Sighing, her gaze drifted to Aubrey; she seemed to surprised and excited to have them both in the same place, again to get to spend time with them together.

"Okay," she agreed softly, smiling uncertainly as she curled her legs back up on the couch.

He set Aubrey down, intent on taking a seat in the big recliner, but Aubrey was already dragging him by the sleeve towards the couch. He laughed a little at her antics, meeting Calleigh's eyes uncomfortably for a moment as he tried to gauge her reaction. She seemed okay; unsure, but okay. She sat up a little to maintain an appropriate distance from him, even though the couch was more than big enough for that and he was sitting at the edge of the opposite end.

Despite having Aubrey and the movie as somewhat of a distraction, this was unbearably uncomfortable - a far cry from what they used to be, a picture of what they should be but weren't. Before, they would've been a jungle of bodies, her reclined back against his chest with Aubrey either lying against her or somehow cuddled up to them both.

Calleigh felt too close to everything - to him, to confronting her fears, to accepting what had happened between them.

Clorinda peeked in from the kitchen, a welcome distraction, and smiled when she saw Eric. "Mijo, I thought I heard your voice," she said excitedly, coming over to give him a brief hug. "I'm sorry, I was on the phone."

Her eyes lingered on the unusual but pleasant sight before her, both pairs of eyes pleading with her to stay and be a buffer. She looked between them both, smiling a little, and retreated back into the kitchen with dishes as an excuse.

Calleigh couldn't take this much longer. The silence between them was almost palpable, thick with the weight of everything they'd never said, everything they _needed_ to say. And there was a tension she could neither explain nor bear.

"I should go," she suddenly announced. Eric immediately recognized the difference between should and need; she still had twenty minutes.

He sighed, frustrated but not upset. He had felt the awkwardness and tension just as strongly, but he was reluctant to admit it. How could two people who'd never run out of things to say to each other suddenly have nothing but awkward silence between them?

"I just can't..." she trailed off, eyes dancing over Aubrey all engrossed in the movie and then over to him. He smiled sadly, understanding somewhat but not completely. He had never wholly understood this.

Drawing Aubrey close, she kissed her forehead and whispered into her ear, "I love you." Tiny arms wrapped around her neck and it hurt to think she wouldn't see her again for an entire day. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Aubrey looked up at her, half worried, half expectant. "Promise?"

"I promise," Calleigh assured, this irrational fear of Aubrey's tearing at her. She knew it had everything to do with the separation.

With one last unsure glance at Eric, she slipped her heels back on and was gone. Outside and alone, the extent of the situation fully hit her. She was warm, dizzy, and tense; her body and heart begged for reprieve.

She suddenly realized that tension had nothing to do with all their baggage and everything to do with wanting to touch him. She wanted to feel him like before, his sturdy body cradling hers, his warmth radiating throughout her. She wanted to feel his skin against hers again, to revel in the simple comfort of loving and being loved. But it could never be that simple again.

- - -

_In a sudden change of emotion, she ached to have his arms around her. She wanted to be held and kissed and touched, wanted his hands and lips to warm her skin. She needed his touch to set her body on fire like it used to, needed their actions to be fueled by love and desire without any thought of the life they'd created and then lost._

_She couldn't look at him without thinking of the baby lately, and she needed that to change. She needed to make it change._

_For all the wrong reasons she reached out for him, sliding her hand beneath his t-shirt and pulling herself closer to him than she'd been in weeks. Her fingers danced over his abdomen, trailing over the ridges of his muscles._

_He woke at the sensation, confused but turned on by the suggestion of her wandering hands._

"_Calleigh…"_

"_Shh," she whispered, and he sat up as she forwardly straddled him. She pressed her mouth to his before he could say anything, lips firm and insistent as she kissed him hard._

_His hands hesitantly held her waist, still confused and concerned by her sudden change. But she was determined, and she pulled back to peel her tank top off her body, leaving her half-naked before him._

"_Cal," he tried again, but she wouldn't meet his eyes. Her hips settled against his, bodies pressing together intimately, and she kissed the corner of his mouth teasingly. Because she seemed so sure and because he could never resist her, he finally relaxed against her. Holding her hips against his, he took her bottom lip between his, kissing her softly as his hands trailed up her sides. He brushed the sides of her breasts with his thumbs hesitantly, re-familiarizing himself with a body he would never forget._

_His tongue grazed hers and she parted her lips, acquiescing, but he pulled away to trade lips for skin. His mouth graced her neck and then her collarbone, peppering moist, heated kisses along her soft body. Lost in a curtain of blonde hair, his lips trailed down the valley between her breasts while his hands slid over her ribs and down to her abdomen._

_And she felt herself coming alive in all the wrong ways. Tears sprang to her eyes and for once she couldn't control them, no matter how hard she tried. She cradled his head in her hands, holding his jaw, and pulled him towards her quickly before he could notice the tears. She pressed her lips to his, even harder this time, his teeth clumsily scraping her bottom lip at the added pressure._

_This wasn't Calleigh, he realized, and soon after he felt the undeniable sensation of warm tears bathing his cheeks._

_Pulling away immediately, he forced her to look at him. She wouldn't have any part of it; she focused on his lips, trying to draw him back to her._

"_Calleigh," he whispered, his voice soft and concerned. "This is too soon."_

_She ran a hand through her hair, letting it settle wildly over her shoulders, and lowered her lips to his neck. He closed his eyes, his body enjoying the sensations but his heart breaking at her desperation._

"Cal_," he urged, having to firmly push at her shoulders. His hands moved from her waist to her back, his touch changing from seductive to comforting. Rubbing her back up and down, he urged her towards him, this time for comfort. She met his eyes, tears still spilling over onto her cheeks, and he saw something in her he had never seen before. She was completely lost._

_His hand slid down her spine slowly, still smoothing over her skin soothingly. She searched his eyes, finding no sign of the simple desire she'd wanted. There was only a heart-wrenching ache expressed in his brown eyes – for her, for him, for their baby, for their family. And when she realized that this was simply grief she pulled away, wiping the moisture off her face._

"_I'm sorry," she said, devoid of all emotion. He didn't know what she was apologizing for. Before he could ask, before he could reassure her, she'd grabbed her top and disappeared into the bathroom, effectively shutting him out._

***

"So you and Calleigh were both here today…" Clorinda began, encouraging Eric to talk. He'd been here all evening, helping her with dinner as he often did when he came for Aubrey. It was the least he could do to repay her for helping out, and he'd always enjoyed spending time with his family anyway. He was unusually quiet tonight, though, and she didn't even need her maternal instincts to tell her it had to do with Calleigh.

"Yeah, that, uh, wasn't planned," he said, shaking his head. "And it only lasted about two minutes." His body had immediately tensed at the topic. "Great sign," he added sarcastically.

"You need to talk to her, Eric," Clorinda told him, setting the towel on the counter and placing a hand on her hip.

"Mom," he began, leveling with her. "We can't even stand to be in the same room as each other for five minutes. I don't think a conversation is exactly a good idea."

"Well this isn't good for either of you," she noted, looking at him worriedly. He was tired and obviously not sleeping well, the exhaustion weighing down his usually energetic body. He and Calleigh both had the same dark circles under their eyes, the same heavy burden on their shoulders, the same sadness in their eyes.

"Yeah, well that's usually how divorces go," he said, his tone bitter.

She frowned, narrowing her eyes at him concernedly. "Is that really what's going on?"

He finally gave up on loading the dishwasher and stood upright, leaning against the counter. Shrugging, he sighed, debating whether or not to divulge what had plagued him for days. Eyes cast downward, he rotated the platinum band around his left ring finger.

"She took off her rings."

Clorinda ached for him. He had been through so much, and it had taken him a long, long time to find someone he truly loved. She'd watch him go through girl after girl, experiencing disappointment after disappointment. And when his feelings about Calleigh came into the light, he'd fallen hard. She wasn't surprised that after everything he was expecting the worst.

But she remembered how complete he had felt once he'd found Calleigh, how he'd seemed more sure of their relationship than he'd ever seemed about anything in life, and she was renewed with confidence. After a short, thoughtful silence she smiled sadly, meeting her son's eyes.

"That's only proof she wants to forget," she told him, knowing from instinct and observation that neither of them could be done with this that easily. "It doesn't mean she's ready to move on."


	5. Omnia Mutantur, Nihil Interit

(Everything Changes, Nothing Perishes)

**Author's Note:** And here I thought Latin would only come in handy for law... Using this as a title totally counts as studying for today, right? Anyways, thanks to my amazing beta **restless-mess**. I was a little unsure about this one and she helped a lot. :)

_Do not get me wrong,_

_I cannot wait for you to come home_

_For now you're not here and I'm not there_

_It's like we're on our own to figure it out,_

_Consider how to find a place to stand_

_Instead of walking away and instead of nowhere to land_

"Is this all the stuff from the hotel room?" Eric asked as he fastened his lab coat around his body. Calleigh was already geared up and beginning to dump the contents of the many, many evidence bags onto the large table. They were going to be here a while.

"Yeah, Ryan just dropped it off." Calleigh rested her hands on her hips and sighed, looking through the mess. "We need to look for anything they could've ingested and check for toxins…and just try to piece together what happened last night."

Eric watched as she began to sort through everything, admiring her ability to keep up a professional front. All he could think about was how Aubrey had asked for her this morning and how she was wearing the necklace he'd given her for their second anniversary.

Coming up next to her, he began to help her comb through the evidence. After a moment he paused, an amused smile gracing his features.

Calleigh was poised over a plate, about to run a quick chemical test, when she noticed him. She glanced over, a puzzled expression on her face.

"What?" she asked, trying to gauge the amused yet wistful smile on his face.

"Well," he began, awkwardly meeting her eyes. "We've got champagne and chocolate covered strawberries…" He couldn't even attempt to look at her now. Seeing the recognition of that memory in her eyes would be a little too strong, a little too much…as most things were these days. Sighing, he set the champagne bottle next to the strawberries. "Makings for a romantic evening."

Finally, he managed to look her way. Her thoughts were completely elsewhere, caught up in the replay of a different romantic evening – their own – as her eyes lingered on the bottle.

Eventually she drew her eyes to his, smiling sadly, though he swore there was a bit more pink in her cheeks. "I would say so."

_---_

_Coming home after nine o'clock made for the longest day ever, Calleigh realized as she kicked her heels off in the foyer. When she saw the candles in the hallway, she froze, wondering if a forgotten cause for celebration was about to further ruin her day._

_After a quick mental recollection of important dates, she was at a loss. Smiling, she peeked her head down the hall, padding through the house barefoot, her black dress pants now much too long._

"_Eric?" she called out, and a moment later he appeared from the kitchen._

"_Hey, Gorgeous," he greeted, coming forward to wrap his wife in a hug. After pulling away just slightly he cradled her face, placed a lingering kiss on her lips, and met her confused eyes._

"_What's going on?" she asked. Her eyes implored his, her smile contagious._

_With a pleased smirk, he slowly tugged her forward by her belt loops playfully. He shuffled backwards, her laughter filling the living room as he pulled her in. More candles littered the side tables, coffee table, and mantle. They were everywhere, providing the perfect amount of dim lighting without being too over the top._

"_Eric," she said, her tone more demanding. "What is all this?"_

"_You had a long day," he said, though as she took in the set-up on the table she suspected he'd been planning this before he knew how her day would be. "And I love you… And _you _love chocolate covered strawberries."_

_She laughed, knowing he was making up random justifications, and happily let him drag her down onto the sofa. Legs resting in his lap, she cuddled up next to his side and reveled in his warmth. Eric excitedly lifted the tray off the table and set it on her legs, loving the way her eyes lit up at the sight of one of her favorite treats._

"_Oh my Lord, you _made_ these?" she asked, noticing the perfect imperfections on the platter – the drizzle of white chocolate on the plate there, a drop of dark chocolate here. They were definitely homemade._

_As always, the sudden revert back to Southern language coloring her words made him chuckle. He slid a wandering hand beneath the leg of her pants, caressing her smooth calf as she chose a white chocolate strawberry with dark chocolate drizzle. She took a bite, grinning as she met his eyes._

"_Have I told you lately that you're amazing? 'Cause you are," she said playfully, leaning back into the soft cushions._

_Eric leaned forward, retrieving the chilled bottle of champagne and two glasses from the table. Calleigh eyed it suspiciously, a contented smile gracing her lips._

_As he filled the second glass she finally whispered, "Eric…"_

"_Your favorite," he said, handing over the glass. She took it hesitantly._

_She sighed lightly, looking down at the wonderful, bubbly drink she loved so much. "I can't be drinking champagne if we're trying to have a baby."_

_His eyes immediately lit up at the reminder and he grinned, which made her grin, and she laughed a little at the cheesiness. Three weeks ago they'd decided to "let whatever happen" and he'd been looking at her a little differently ever since. And though he knew she wanted this just as much as he did, she was naturally a bit less open about it. The knowledge that she was already thinking this way tripped him up more than just a little._

_Still grinning, he lifted his glass to hers and offered, "Last glass?"_

"_Last glass," she agreed, tilting hers to clink it against his. Meeting his eyes, she took a long sip, the taste mixing perfectly with hints of chocolate and fruity sweetness._

_She wanted more chocolate and champagne, but as his free hand trailed back up her foot to massage her heel, all she wanted was more Eric. Watching intently as he popped a strawberry into his mouth, she smiled and took one more sip of champagne. She set the glass down and, in one perfected move, she moved a leg to the other side of his body to straddle him._

_Pressing her lips to his, she quickly became enamored with the taste of Eric, chocolate, and strawberries. He leaned forward, their bodies pressing together as he set his glass beside hers. Though she pulled away slightly he smiled, the taste of her lingering on his lips, and he slid his hands along the underside of her thighs._

_She playfully tugged at the hem of his shirt before peeling it off his upper body, leaving him in nothing but a pair of khaki shorts she couldn't wait to remove. He hugged her close, her hair falling all around his face as she brushed her lips with his teasingly. They quickly got lost in the kiss, his hands sliding through her hair and then down her neck until he'd reached the top button of her blouse._

_He tore his lips from hers only to press them against her collarbone, moving downward to press kisses against each newly revealed patch of skin. He'd planned to carry her off upstairs, but soon they were lost in a sea of sweet kisses and bare skin in the middle of their living room, surrounded by candles, chocolate strawberries, and champagne._

_Six weeks later they would watch as two very solid pink lines appeared on a pregnancy test. A few calculations later she would playfully ask him to promise her that they would never tell their child his or her conception may have been the product of a little champagne and chocolate, a lot of candles, and a very comfortable couch._

* * *

Eric knew this was a mistake. It was better than the alternative, however – sitting at home alone, staring at scattered toys and educational dvd's, missing his daughter, and, on the nights he would allow himself to, missing Calleigh. When one of his old friends, Mike, called him about going out for a few beers with the guys, that option had seemed like the lesser of two evils.

Now he wasn't so sure. Derek, a newly single old acquaintance Eric hadn't seen in a while was talking up the ladies and "beer with the guys" had turned into picking up women. He was only one beer in, though a few of the guys were racking up the empty bottles, and he already had a bad feeling about where this night was headed. Missing Aubrey and Calleigh suddenly seemed more appealing than being reminded of the single life.

Before Eric could say goodbye to Mike and excuse himself from this outing, Derek had returned with three girls in tow. He winked at Eric, receiving a warning look in response. Eric tried not to notice the one woman eyeing him as she walked over, trying to catch his attention.

Suddenly the lanky blonde was at his side, arching her back suggestively as she leaned against the table. Finally enticing him to make eye contact, she smiled. "So I hear you like blondes…"

Eric scoffed, somewhat amused at the terrible pick-up line. He took a sip of beer, actually feeling like he needed a drink now.

"No, I like _a_ blonde," he corrected, lifting up his left hand to reveal his wedding band. "I'm married."

She laughed and it was hollow, forced, so unlike Calleigh's natural laugh that always made him feel special to be privy to. This girl seemed nice; she just…wasn't Calleigh. She was too forward and too simple. She was easy to read and boring.

"C'mon, where's the Eric Delko I used to know?" Derek teased, ruffling Eric's shoulders encouragingly. "He's separated," he added, looking between them both as if he'd done them a favor.

But he hadn't helped at all. He'd only managed to piss Eric off.

Understanding, the girl gave Eric a reassuring smile. "You're still in love with her." It wasn't a question, just a very obvious observation.

"Yeah," Eric admitted, smiling disbelievingly. "I am." It was strange to admit. After months and months of a very rocky marriage and then seven months with extremely limited contact, he was still absolutely, unequivocally in love with his wife. He wasn't even sure he could call her that.

"Do you have kids?"

Before he'd even completely answered with "a daughter" he was pulling out his cell phone, double pressing the keypad to light the screen up. The background was a picture of Aubrey peacefully tucked into light pink bedding, fast asleep with one hand clutching her favorite stuffed animal and one hand curled up under her chin just like Calleigh often did. Long dark blonde hair spilled across the pillow, forming loose ringlets near the ends.

The woman – he hadn't caught her name – melted, as most people did. "She's beautiful."

Suddenly his phone was vibrating in his hands and the words "Calleigh… calling" replaced the adorable picture of Aubrey.

"I have to take this," he told the woman, and she knew the identity of the caller by the expression in his eyes.

"Good luck," she said politely, smiling sadly and shrugging.

Eric smiled gratefully at her and, with a skeptical look toward Derek, who was now surrounded by her friends and a bunch of shot glasses, he said, "Good luck to you, too."

Eric stared at the phone for a moment as he walked away from some of the noise, preparing himself to hear her voice. Aubrey had said goodnight hours ago and he knew with certainty that this would be Calleigh.

"Hey," he answered after lifting the phone to his ear. She could immediately sense the confusion in his voice amid the distinct sounds of a restaurant or bar. She could hear clanking bottles or dishes and the low rumble of voices throughout the room.

"Hi… I'm so sorry to interrupt." She sighed, wondering if it was wrong to feel hurt that he was out, moving on and living life. Burrowing herself further under the blanket she and Aubrey were sharing, she leaned back into the sofa cushions and rested her feet against the edge of the coffee table.

"No, you're fine," he assured, brows furrowing with concern. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Calleigh said, smiling a little as she tightened her hold around Aubrey. "It's just that Brie forgot that dang bunny at your place and-"

"She won't fall asleep without it?" he finished for her with an amused chuckle. "I'll bring it right over."

* * *

Eric's stomach was in knots as he rang the doorbell of the house – _their_ house. The last time he had been here he'd been packing bags. It was strange to be back, and heartbreaking to be coming back under circumstances that were no better.

And then Calleigh pulled the door open, looking more natural than he'd seen her in a while. Plaid pajama pants hung low on her hips and, fortunately for him, she was wearing a loose t-shirt instead of the body-hugging tank tops she often favored. Her hair was down and wavy, her face make-up free.

She smiled, mostly at the floppy bunny dangling at his side next to his masculine frame, and held the door for him.

"Thank you so much," she said gratefully. They were both standing in the foyer now, both completely unsure about this situation. "Do you want to give it to her? She's on the couch…she's at least been able to doze off here and there for a few minutes."

Eric was torn. He wanted to see her smile when she finally found herself in the possession of her security blanket. He wanted to carry her up to bed, tuck her beneath those pink sheets, and kiss her goodnight on the forehead. He needed to hear "I love you, Daddy" again and watch her drift off, comfortable and peaceful – something he longed to feel himself.

But this was Calleigh's home now. If Aubrey saw him here, she would be more than a little confused.

"I'd love to, but, uh, it's probably better if she doesn't know I'm here…" He extended a hand, giving her Aubrey's favorite stuffed animal.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she sighed. "Yeah, you're probably right," she said regretfully. She awkwardly glanced at her toes, managing to covertly glance at him when he looked at the floor.

He looked a little rough around the edges – his eyes were tired, his shoulders slumped slightly. Now that he was in the foyer she could smell faint traces of smoke from his clothing. It didn't take a CSI to realize he'd been at a bar, though he didn't seem to have consumed much at all. Even so, she was a little concerned about him driving home while so exhausted.

He sighed, and though it was barely audible she picked up on it.

"Rough day?" she asked, looking at him sympathetically.

"More like a rough night," he said, running a hand through his short hair. He immediately regretted the remark when he saw a flash of something in her eyes… Regret? Jealousy? Hurt? He wasn't sure.

But she recovered quickly and an amused smile graced her lips. "Yeah, you kinda smell like a bar…"

With a pointed glance down at his clothing, he laughed a little. "Yeah, sorry. Mike kind of persuaded me to go out with the guys."

"Oh," she said, smiling understandingly. Natalia, and even some other friends, had tried to get her to go out a couple times, occasionally by coercion. "I remember Mike…" she added, looking upward for a moment as she recalled the name from Eric's single, partying days. "That explains the rough night."

He smiled, about to explain to her that Mike wasn't even the wild one anymore, but he stopped himself. What were they doing, anyways? This was the closest thing to a real conversation they'd had in seven months and it was completely out of the blue.

Some part of her liked his presence here far too much and before she could reconsider anything she was asking, "Do you want a cup of coffee before you go? It's late and you seem really tired…"

"Calleigh," he breathed out, closing his eyes to maintain control. Of course he wanted to sit with her, have coffee, and simply _be _here, but it was all wrong. He knew her wall would be back up in a matter of minutes if he agreed. "You can't do this."

"It's just coffee," she said softly, though her eyes revealed more. She could bury her emotions if she really wanted; she could make it be _just_ coffee if she needed to, but he couldn't.

"No," he assured, shaking his head disbelievingly. His eyes met hers, his gaze intense. "It's not. With us it's never that simple and you know it."

"Right," she agreed, the word hollow. She looked away. Losing a child was never simple. "You're right. You should just go back to the bar and find something simple."

It was a low blow and she knew it; and he knew it was so unlike her that he was almost more concerned than he was angry. Almost.

"You know that's not what I want," he insisted, his eyes on hers even if she refused to meet his gaze. "There's no one but you, Cal. Never will be."

Her mind should've taken his words at face value like her heart did, but she couldn't anymore. Too much had gotten in the way of the simplicity of love.

"Why?" she asked, as if she expected him to leave just like everyone else had in the end. "It's been seven months, Eric…" She didn't want to hold him back, didn't want to keep him from being happy more than she already had. Deep down, she knew that he only wanted her, that he would only be happy with her, but she felt so guilty for everything that she almost wanted to give him an out.

"Because this means something to me," he said loudly, his words full of anger and accusation as he held up his left hand, his wedding band glinting under the light.

"And you think it doesn't to me?" she asked, obviously hurt. She stood there, struggling for control as her thumb harshly rubbed the empty spot on her ring finger. "It means so much to me that I can't even wear them right now because it hurts too much to be reminded."

He met her eyes, breathing out heavily as he acknowledged what he should've known all along – her hurt was just as deep and intense as his, if not stronger. She was just so much harder to read. Though he'd always been good at reading her, he only saw what he feared when he was expecting the worst.

"Momma?"

Calleigh closed her eyes tightly, hating that they were still somehow managing to do this to their daughter. She took a deep breath and turned around just in time to see Aubrey come from the living room, a blanket that was clutched in her tiny hands trailing behind her.

"Daddy!" Her sleepy eyes lit up, her tired walk becoming a run. She practically jumped into his arms and he smiled half-heartedly, afraid of the repercussions. Never one to miss out on time with his daughter, however, he held her against his side and kissed her forehead. His stubble tickled her cheek and she giggled, burying her face against his chest.

"Look what Daddy brought," Calleigh said, holding up the cherished bunny. Aubrey grinned, taking it into her hands and hugging it against her body.

"Are you going to sleep with me and Momma tonight?" she asked hopefully. "The bed is real big."

Eric sighed, managing to avoid Calleigh's eyes as he smiled sadly at Aubrey. "No, baby, I have to go home."

She frowned and furrowed her brows, obviously confused and upset. The sight of him here brought back so many memories for her, memories of them both here.

"Why is your home not our home anymore?" she asked wistfully, and Calleigh had to turn away as her heart practically shattered within her chest.

After a pained glance at Calleigh, Eric tucked Aubrey's French braids over her shoulders and barely managed a smile. "Because Momma and I love you so much we thought we'd give you _two _homes."

Leave it to Eric to find a positive twist to a separation, Calleigh thought, focusing her watery eyes on the two of them. He had always been amazing with her.

It was a bullshit answer, but Aubrey bought it in a way. She didn't understand why it mattered, though. She sighed, heavily for a four-year-old, and rested her head on her daddy's shoulder.

After a moment's consideration she decided, "Well I just want you to stay here and we can have one."

Calleigh hesitantly met his gaze, her eyes sparkling with tears she refused to shed. For a moment she was open and honest, though guarded, and he could see the hurt there.

Eric didn't know how to respond. He simply rubbed Aubrey's back for a moment, feeling her relax more and more as she drifted off to sleep again. By the time he whispered, "You have to go with Momma now," she was so out of it she barely noticed the transfer of bodies.

But Eric and Calleigh did. His hand brushed her bare arm as he settled Aubrey into Calleigh's arms, her eyes again flickering to his at the contact. She held his gaze a moment, showing without words that something had changed tonight. She couldn't pinpoint it but something had opened up – a line of communication, a world of hurt… She didn't know if it was good or bad, or what it really meant.

She just knew it made it harder to look at him and simply say, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he responded, a certain softness in his tone. He stood there for a while, his eyes lingering on her, before he finally was able to let himself out.

Calleigh sighed, pressing her palm and forehead to the door as she replayed what had just happened. And just for a moment she wondered if this could be as simple as Aubrey thought it should be.


	6. Breathing Underwater

**Author's Note: **This so wasn't going to be up anytime soon, as I had a presentation, exam, and a billion readings this week. I've been sick since Monday, however, and there's nothing like running a fever during a Swine Flu epidemic to get your professors to beg you to stay home. So…naturally, I wrote an entire chapter in a day and a half. Guess I really missed writing. Hope you like it! P.S. Forgive any typos. I'm not sure how lucid I am with a fever.

_How long have I been in this storm?_

_So overwhelmed by the ocean's shapeless form_

_Water's getting harder to tread_

_With these waves crashing over my head_

Eric was completely entranced.

Calleigh stood in front of the lab table, one hand on her hip, one hand absentmindedly toying with that necklace she had on yet again, and pored over the array of crime scene photos. Long blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders, meeting beautiful, creamy skin at her neckline. She was wearing one of those shiny, feminine button-ups he'd always had so much fun _un_buttoning, the top button just barely low enough to make his imagination run wild.

She was gorgeous, he realized for probably the millionth time, and then he immediately chastised himself silently for admiring the woman he was separated from. But then she pursed her lips in contemplation, just as Aubrey had done the night before when she'd encountered a difficult word in a book, and he was done for.

Admiring her as a beautiful woman and admiring her as the mother of their daughter were two completely different things, but when he put them together it was more than a little overwhelming. He was reminded again that this was _Calleigh_, and it made walking into the room as simply a colleague that much harder.

She looked up, lips straightening into somewhat of a smile as her eyes met his. "Hey." There was a hint of uneasiness in her eyes, though, as she quickly remembered last night.

"Hey," he replied, coming around to her side of the table. "Find anything?"

Calleigh cleared her throat, forcing the remnants of emotions – the ones she could suppress, at least – away, and took a deep breath. "No, unfortunately."

Eric frowned slightly, watching her disappointed eyes scan over the photos again. They had yet to discover any solid leads for this case, much to everyone's dismay. He followed her gaze, studying the photos of the slain father and seventeen-year-old son, and sighed. Work was just work – another dead body, another mystery to solve – until they got involved, until they remembered the victim was someone's husband, someone's son. And starting a family had only made it worse.

"Sometimes there's just not enough evidence," he said, his words both reassuring and empty. He knew, and she did, too, that he felt just as disappointed when a case went cold. They'd had many conversations about it after exceptionally difficult days. It was depressing and disconcerting to work a twelve-hour day and still feel as though it hadn't been enough, as though they weren't good enough to solve this one. She saw that understanding in his eyes even as he assured, "We can't get them all, Cal."

The intimate nickname hit her with an indeterminable weight and she went stone cold again, taking a deep breath as she collected up the crime scene photos. This was a little too familiar; she'd let him in a little too far, even in a professional setting. It was especially frightening after where their words and emotions had taken them the night before.

"I know," she said, but she didn't. And she knew that _he _knew she didn't. But it was enough to effectively shut him out and leave them with nothing more to discuss.

When Ryan walked in there was an uneasy silence pervading the room, and when they both looked at him with relieved eyes he knew he'd interrupted something they both wanted to be rescued from.

"Hey Ryan," Calleigh greeted, stuffing the photos back into an envelope and looping the string in a figure-eight to seal it. "What's up?"

"We just got a call," he began. "Homicide in the Grove, looks like a shooting." Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Ryan looked at the empty counter before raising his eyes back to Calleigh's. "I was going to grab Delko unless…"

Ryan looked between them both awkwardly, hoping his point came across. It was strange rotating members of the team to scenes, but never pairing a certain two. Beyond that, it seemed inane to watch Calleigh and Eric work together but not _really_ work together. He had sort of a complex about them; he needed them to be happy, sharing those stupidly-in-love looks they thought he didn't see and playfully ganging up on him like they had been since the beginning.

"Unless…?" Eric implored him to continue, and Calleigh wished he hadn't. She had a feeling she knew where this was going.

Ryan frowned, shuffling uneasily. "Unless you two wanted to take this one."

Eric ran a hand through his short hair, eyes flickering to Calleigh's as she met his gaze with uncertainty. She quickly looked away for fear of finding too much in his deep brown eyes.

"No," she said, her degree of certainty almost offensive. It would've been had he not known it to be a defense mechanism. "Y'all can go."

With one more awkward look between the two of them and an attempt at a smile, Calleigh held the envelope against her chest and left the room.

Against his better judgment, Ryan asked, "Is everything, uh…"

Releasing a frustrated breath, Eric rested his hands on the edge of the table and lowered his head for a moment. "Everything's fine," he muttered, standing up.

Everything was not fine. Nothing was, really.

_ _ _

_She felt the bed dip just slightly; he was so gentle, so careful not to wake her, that she wouldn't have known he was home had she not already been awake. Sleep had evaded her most of the night, her mind restlessly turning over thought after thought, fear after fear, until she came to the conclusion she'd been dancing around for weeks._

_With shaky arms, she pushed herself up into a seated position, her back against the stiff headboard. Eric turned over at the movement and, seeing her, sat up beside her._

"_I can't do this anymore," Calleigh admitted emotionally, staring into her lap._

_The moments ticked by slowly as she awaited a reaction – any reaction at all from him. _

"_Okay." Eric sighed, placing a hand on her thigh supportively. He'd made the most logical deduction from her words; they'd wanted a second child for a long time now. Failed attempts and a miscarriage were devastating to the both of them, but he knew Calleigh's emotional turmoil had to be greater than his._

"_We can just stop worrying about this for a while," he assured. "We can stop trying altogether if you want. Let's just give it some time, give your body some time, and we can focus on us and Aubrey." His voice was soft, hopeful, reassuring._

_But his words were anything but that to her._

"_No." She shied away from his touch, her façade crumbling slightly. She wished it was that simple, but it wasn't. "I can't do this anymore… I can't do _us_ anymore."_

"_Cal," he pleaded, his hand curling around her thigh. "You don't mean that…"_

_She couldn't blame him. It had taken her a long time to accept it, to really believe that they had come to this. Their relationship had been carefully constructed, built upon ten years of solid friendship, and still they'd ended up here._

_True love had proven to be an illusion, just as she'd always thought it was until Eric had proven her wrong – or so she'd thought. But they were _here _– where touching was brief and words where often heated, where their daughter had walked in on more than one less than pleasant discussion. To her they were in, or at least near, a place she had always been terrified of. More that once recently she had seen herself in Aubrey, and that wasn't something she ever wanted to see again._

"_What if I do?" she asked, her voice breaking near the end. She exhaled shakily, trying to compose herself. "Eric… We never see each other, and when we do, we fight. We said we wouldn't do this to her."_

_He met her eyes, unsure whether he was finding more fear or more hurt there. His hand left her skin._

"_I'll quit the night shift," he said without a second thought._

"_And do what?" she asked skeptically. "You can't quit this job. You love it… We both do."_

"_Calleigh, it's a job," he leveled with her. "Our family means more to me than any job."_

_She refused to take away any more from him, refused to further ruin the life he'd envisioned, and so she shook her head stubbornly. "You're not quitting."_

"_So what, you're gonna quit us instead?" he spat out disbelievingly, his tone quickly turning from supportive to angry. She seemed to have given up already._

"_Maybe, if that's what it takes," she said spitefully, immediately regretting the words. "I don't know." She sighed, lowering her head into her hands. "Today Aubrey asked me why I'm sad…why I don't smile anymore."_

_Eric was silent with disbelief; he couldn't believe they were having this conversation. He wanted to pull her into her arms and remind her of all the promises they'd made each other, of how perfectly her fingers fit in the spaces between his when their hands intertwined. He wanted to kiss her forehead and tell her that love would be enough, but he was certain she had stopped believing that._

"_I just think we need a break," she said softly, and without another word he was grabbing his keys._

_She watched him walk out, everything becoming a blur as she focused on the sound of his footsteps. He was in their daughter's room, kissing her goodnight, and with a heavy heart Calleigh listened to his footsteps on the stairs. She heard the door click and the car engine rev, and with that he was gone._

_She thought it would be a relief to feel alone and actually _be_ alone. Then there would be a concrete reason behind the loneliness, instead of the solitude she felt even with her husband just next to her. But she didn't feel better at all._

_Now she just felt empty._

* * *

"Alexx!"

Before Eric could even react, Aubrey was squirming out of his arms and running towards the family friend. He winced as she dodged an elderly man and a boy on crutches, apologizing in her wake as he followed her path across the hospital lobby.

By the time he'd reached them Aubrey was hugging Alexx's legs, a hearty laugh escaping Alexx as she leaned down to hug Aubrey back.

"Hi, baby!" Alexx greeted excitedly. "What are you doing here?"

Grinning, Aubrey pulled her hair back from her face, revealing her battle scar, and smiled proudly. "I got stitchers."

"Stitches," Eric corrected, smiling as he placed a hand atop Aubrey's head. "And she just got them out, actually."

"Well hey, stranger," Alexx teased, immediately pulling him into a hug. "What happened to the little angel?"

Eric chuckled at her choice of words and shook his head. "The little angel busted her head while trying to kick other kids off the monkey bars."

Alexx gasped playfully, looking at the innocent face of the little girl she'd bought tiny pink and yellow onesies for just four years ago. "My baby wouldn't do that, right?" Alexx asked her.

Giggling in a mischievous manner, Aubrey tucked her hands behind her back and shook her head enthusiastically, golden ringlets bouncing everywhere. "Nope."

Calleigh watched the scene unfold before her in glances as she signed her name a billion times at the desk, finally leaving with a record of the visit and a special cream for Aubrey's scar. Smiling, she walked over to the three of them, albeit cautiously.

Alexx excitedly wrapped her in a hug and then pulled back, cradling Calleigh's face in her hands adoringly. It had been months since she'd seen these two – or three – of her favorite people, or even heard from them. Losing touch was atypical for Eric and Calleigh and now, despite how happy she was to see them, she could tell that something was different. She just couldn't place her finger on it.

"It's so good to see you two," Alexx said, sighing happily as she crossed her arms over her chest. "How have you been?"

"Good," they said in unison, both far too cheerful. Alexx eyed them suspiciously and Calleigh glanced at Eric hesitantly before averting her eyes.

"We've been good," Eric assured Alexx, though not quite convincingly. This was no place to get into details, and it would be more than a little awkward for he and Calleigh to attempt to explain the situation in the presence of one another. "Just busy with a miniature Evel Knievel here."

Alexx laughed, resting a hand on Aubrey's small shoulder. She had yet to believe that someone so adorable could be so troublesome.

"Well, I should really get back to my rounds," Alexx admitted regretfully. "But we should do dinner soon."

"Yeah," Calleigh agreed, a smile that didn't quite make it to her eyes gracing her lips. "I'll call you soon."

I, not we, Alexx noticed. It was a small detail, possibly not significant, but something told her it was.

They exchanged genuine pleasantries and Alexx narrowed her eyes on Aubrey playfully. "No more monkey bar fights, okay?"

"I won't," Aubrey assured, holding onto her mother's hand as she looked back up Alexx. "Mama said she'd have my hide," she added, mimicking Calleigh't hint of southern twang perfectly.

Calleigh rolled her eyes, smiling as she gave Alexx one more hug goodbye.

Alexx was still laughing softly as they walked away, but it was short-lived. She watched them with an uneasy curiosity.

There were no touches, no glances, no words. They walked to separate cars with little, if any, acknowledgement of the other's presence and drove away.

It was a far cry from the way she remembered them.

_ _ _

_Alexx briefly wondered if she was entering the wrong room. This room, with its dim lights and quiet atmosphere, seemed far too peaceful to house a woman in labor._

_But a glance toward the bed told her she was in the right place. Calleigh lay on her side beneath a flimsy, sterile hospital sheet, blonde hair spilling off to one side. Eric was at her side, leaning onto the bed, whispering hushed words to her as she closed her eyes between contractions._

_Calleigh lay in what seemed like an uncomfortable position, pillows completely abandoned after much tossing and turning. Alexx slowly drew closer, marveling at how deep inside their own world these two usually overly-alert cops were. They had yet to even realize she was there, and if they had they were simply too preoccupied to acknowledge her._

_Finally, Eric looked up, his eyes meeting those of his former colleague, and smiled. Alexx smiled back hesitantly, feeling as though she'd interrupted something extremely sacred now that their current position was evident._

_In lieu of pillows, Calleigh's head was cradled in the soft center of Eric's palm. His free hand brushed along her temple before sliding through her golden hair in a soothing motion._

_Calleigh had found her own refuge from the pain in delicate caresses, soft words, and the warmth of her husband's palm instead of from an IV drip of potent painkillers._

_Alexx was marveling at them again. During a time when most women were yelling obscenities and pushing their husbands away, Calleigh and Eric were closer than ever. They were grounded – a solid unit working as one. Her pain softened him, made him even more nurturing than he already was, and she drew strength from his simple yet powerful comforting._

_He was her meditation, her deep breathing. The warmth of his palm against her cheek radiated throughout her body, making it somehow tolerable that she hurt like hell all over every time a contraction plagued her small frame. His delicate touches reminded her that she was doing this for them, for _her _– Aubrey, the tiny being inside her who was half her, half him._

_And that made it okay. The pain was still there in all its infamous glory, but it was easier to bear with his touch encouraging her._

"_How's she doing?" Alexx asked softly, carefully. She hadn't wanted to interrupt, but when Calleigh's eyes opened she knew she had. It wasn't unwelcome, though. Calleigh smiled through gritted teeth, her watery eyes dancing between the two of them before finally landing on Eric, communicating without words that she couldn't find her voice amid the pain._

"_She's in a lot of pain," Eric began, watching as Calleigh rolled her eyes. Understatement of the year. He smiled a little, his eyes lingering on her lovingly. "She's doing amazing, though," he added with a certain admiration._

"_Looks like you both are," Alexx commented, smiling affectionately. Calleigh nodded softly, taking Eric's free hand in hers and resting their intertwined fingers on the side of her belly. "Well, I get to be a visitor today for once," Alexx continued. "So how about you call me when that baby is all cute and clean and wrapped up in fluffy pink blankets?"_

_Calleigh smiled through the pain, swallowing down the large lump in her throat and finally finding a few words. "We will," she assured. "Thanks for stopping by."_

"_Good luck," she wished them both, and with an encouraging touch to Eric's shoulder she was walking out, letting them return to their own special world._

_Alexx glanced back at them once more, smiling at the scene before her. Calleigh and Eric were both such strong, independent people, and it tugged at her to witness them so united. They had always been a perfect couple, but now it was nearly indistinguishable where one's strength ended and the other's began._

Alexx refused to believe it was possible for such a strong bond to break.

* * *

Tonight was one of those nights when Aubrey was especially tired. And instead of listening to her say goodnight to Eric, Calleigh was watching as her daughter slowly fell asleep, the phone slipping out of her now lax grip after speaking to her father for only a few minutes.

Aubrey was practically glued to her side, the two of them cuddled up in the small child's bed, but Calleigh somehow managed to disentangle herself.

Biting her lip, she stared at the phone. She hated these nights, hated the awkward words and, most of all, hated hearing his voice just before bed. It always left her restless and longing.

Reluctantly, she retrieved the phone from the crook of Aubrey's neck carefully.

"Sorry," she said as she held the phone against her ear. "She fell asleep again."

"That's okay." Eric chuckled a little, imagining Aubrey dozing off mid-sentence.

With a soft kiss to her daughter's forehead and the flip of a light switch, Calleigh left Aubrey's room quietly. His voice had already affected her; just the anticipation of it had. She was nervous, and she had to switch hands so she could wipe her sweaty palms off on her pants.

"Do you want her to call in the morning?"

"No," Eric assured, shaking his head and then wondering why he had when she couldn't even see him. "I think I'll stop by my mom's on my lunch break, so I'll see her then."

"Okay," Calleigh said softly, now seated on the edge of her bed – _their_ bed. That acknowledgement made her stand up.

She didn't know what else to say. Neither did he, apparently, because they sat there in a not-so-comfortable silence for a while before she heard him sigh on the other end of the line.

"Calleigh…" he began hesitantly. "How are you?"

She was shocked for a moment that they were treading these waters, but after last night she couldn't be completely surprised.

"I'm okay," she answered, and then some part of her that remembered how to be open with him added, "Sometimes." She crossed her free arm over her chest, suddenly cold. "How are you?"

"The same, really," he lied. How could he tell her how much he missed her? How could he explain to her that some days he had to pretend he had something – some_one_ – to come home to, just so he could get through the day? He couldn't tell her that he ached to run his fingers over her smooth, creamy skin, to feel her in his arms again.

It was more than that, though. After seeing each other so much recently due to work and Aubrey, repeats of last night would just keep on happening unless they figured out where they stood. They needed some solid ground, whatever that meant.

Letting out a deep breath, he collected his thoughts. "I guess we need to, uh, talk about…" He trailed off, struggling for the right words.

"A lot," she supplied for him, and he smiled a little. She wasn't sure she could handle a conversation, but she owed him that at the very least. They couldn't do this forever. They couldn't keep each other and Aubrey wrapped up in all this uncertainty. Despite her defense mechanisms she knew they were due for a long talk. "We will," she promised. "Soon."

"Good," he said, the low growl of his tired voice sending a chill down her spine. "Well, I'll let you get some sleep…"

"Yeah, you sound tired, too," she noted, a small smile gracing her lips that, unbeknownst to either of them, matched his.

She knew him too well. He sighed at the implication, running a hand over the stiff muscles in his neck.

"Goodnight," he said wistfully.

"Goodnight."

She tossed the phone onto the bed, sighing heavily. She would blame it on weakness or the look in his eyes last night, anything but the simple fact that his voice had affected her – _he_ had affected her. But all her usual attempts to resist it were futile tonight.

Rummaging through the large dresser, she searched high and low until she found anything of his. Finally, her fingertips were met with the familiar, comfortable fabric of a dark blue tee he'd often adorned.

She peeled off her tank top, replacing it with the soft, familiar t-shirt. It hugged his large, muscular frame, but always nearly fell off hers. She lifted the collar to her face, feeling far too effeminate and silly when she searched for the faintest scent of him.

Only picking up the fragrance of her own detergent, she exhaled heavily. Just feeling it against her skin was the smallest comfort, though.

Wearing something that had once been so close to him would be enough, if only for tonight.


	7. Too Close, Yet So Far

_I know you hate this one_

_Trying not to lose your own,_

_Boxing up everything you've got, all you ever knew of home_

_You're scared, scared to see_

_Your mother there in the door_

_You wonder where did the years go_

_All we know is distance_

_We're close and then we run_

At three in the morning Calleigh felt a sudden draft as covers were lifted, and soon rustling began to pull her from the deep recesses of sleep. The distinct feel of Aubrey settling in beside her fully woke her. As Aubrey glued her small body to her mother and rested her head in the crook of Calleigh's neck, Calleigh wrapped a comforting arm around her.

"Did you have a bad dream?" Calleigh asked, rubbing her back soothingly.

Aubrey was silent; she sniffled, a sure sign she was or had been near tears. "No," she answered quietly. "I don't think so."

Calleigh lifted a motherly hand, smoothing her daughter's hair soothingly along her temple. "What happened, baby?"

Aubrey hesitated, intuitive enough to know that _something_ about this would upset her mother. She didn't understand any of it, but she knew that her mother changed slightly whenever her father was around or mentioned, or when the topic of "home" came up.

"Brie," Calleigh urged, tucking the covers in around them and holding her daughter close. "What's wrong?"

"I woke up and I didn't know what house I was in." Aubrey sniffled and fisted Calleigh's shirt into her hands as she clung to her. "I got scared. I didn't know to call for you or Daddy."

Calleigh's brows furrowed and she cradled Aubrey against her, again feeling an inconsolable hurt and guilt in the pit of her chest. They were doing this to Aubrey; _she_ was doing this to Aubrey, her once innocent and resilient daughter.

"I'm sorry you were scared," Calleigh whispered into her ear. "You can call for either one of us and we'll always come, I promise. Even if you call for Daddy, I'll come."

Warm tears bathed Calleigh's neck and she held Aubrey close, rubbing her back until the tears finally ceased. "Okay," Aubrey managed, still fisting the shirt in her hands. She tugged on it harder and Calleigh tightened her hold on her, for her own sake as well as Aubrey's. Her daughter's recent insecure attachment worried her. It more than worried her, actually. It terrified her and broke her heart into a million pieces; it made her feel like they were doing what they swore they'd never do. It made her feel a little too much like her mother, even though she knew by all accounts she wasn't.

All tears now shed and wiped away, Aubrey buried her face into the dark blue fabric and sighed. "This is a Daddy shirt."

Despite everything, Calleigh had to smile a little. Busted. "Don't tell Daddy I stole it, okay?"

Aubrey smiled, the fear and uncertainty slowly leaving her. "Okay."

She settled in for the night against her mother, comforted by the feel of Calleigh's body and her soothing, familiar embrace. With her mother's touch and the familiar feel of one of her daddy's t-shirts, if she closed her eyes and tried really hard, she could almost believe that both parents were there with her.

* * *

Eric was concerned – no, more like worried sick if he was being completely honest. In a moment of awkward disclosure, Horatio had hinted that a suspect had gotten a little rough with Calleigh while being apprehended. Eric's heart had dropped into his stomach at the news and the color had drained from his face. Upon being reassured she was okay, he was filled only with rage for the jackass who'd tried to overpower her. He'd been able to resist the urge to teach the idiot some respect – barely – but the urge to check up on her was not one he could suppress.

He found her in the break room, seeming cool, calm, and collected, as expected. But years with her in a variety of situations had taught him to notice the slightest details. The smile she gave him was a little too forced and she turned away quickly to hide any evidence of pain in her features. He knew, though. He could tell by the rigidity of her posture, by the way she'd turned away so quickly.

Resisting the urge to touch her, he stepped only somewhat closer.

"Look," he began, his voice sympathetic. "I know that you're gonna say you're okay no matter what, and I know that you don't want to be asked questions…" He had her attention now, and she set the coffee cup and spoon she'd retrieved onto the counter. With a keen eye, he noticed her right shoulder, arm, and back tense at the slightest bit of weight. "I just…need to know you're okay."

She smiled a little; it was awkward at best. "I'm okay," she assured. "Just a little sore."

Steadying the cup with her left hand, she reached for the coffee pot with her right. As soon as she'd gripped the handle and lifted up, the weight hit her shoulder square-on and it gave out. The coffee pot slammed back into the base, splashing burning hot coffee everywhere, and the warmer hissed with displeasure as liquid seared across it.

"Damnit," she let out, frozen in place as her shoulder burned with pain.

"Whoa, easy now," he soothed, completely unable to resist placing his palm at the small of her back. "You're not okay," he deduced as he guided her over to the sink. He ran the cold water and, with careful attention to her clearly injured arm, eased her coffee-covered hand and arm under the faucet.

It was only then, when the pain in her shoulder had ceased to a dull ache and her skin had stopped stinging, that she noticed how close he was. It was only then that she noticed his hands were on her arm, gently helping to rinse away all traces of coffee and checking her for burns. He was touching her…and it was too much.

She pulled away, though her eyes remained on him, soft and grateful. Smiling, this time unguardedly, she sighed. "Guess it's just not my day."

"I guess not," he agreed, somewhat amused though still mostly concerned. His eyes trailed over her very red but seemingly not burned hand, convinced that at least that injury wasn't bad. Grabbing a few paper towels, he began to sop up the mess.

"Eric." She reached a hand out to protest and help – her right one, instinctively – and then immediately winced.

He raised a brow, almost challenging her to try to help, and she stubbornly ripped a few towels off with her _left_ hand. Despite her protests, he filled the coffee cup for her and mixed in two spoonfuls of sugar with just a dash of cream, exactly how she liked it.

Holding the cup out to her, he hesitated. "You have to promise me," he began, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Left hand only."

Calleigh rolled her eyes, conceding. "Fine." She reached for it, but he held it back and she glared, reminding him very much of their obstinate four-year-old.

"And you'll get your shoulder checked out."

She sighed, trying to decide just how badly she wanted that coffee. "It's fine," she assured him. "Just strained or something."

"Cal," he breathed out, and the way he said her name was so concerned and intimate that the small part of her that didn't put her guard up almost gave in.

"I'm okay, really," she told him, meeting his eyes. She wasn't putting a front up this time; she was just being honest. "It hurts, but I think it just needs time to heal."

"Okay." He breathed out, finally handing her the coffee cup. Pointedly drawing his eyes over her button-up, where coffee had splattered everywhere, he added, "You may wanna change your shirt, though."

Realizing he'd been staring, he quickly averted his eyes. She glanced down and frowned, pulling at the material to untuck it and unknowingly revealing a patch of her toned, creamy abdomen for just a split second. But it was more than long enough for him to be affected. He wanted to touch her – because he was concerned, because he was attracted to her, and mostly because he was still undeniably in love with her.

"Yeah, guess I should do that…"

She smiled, completely unaware of the attraction but all too aware that something had changed. They'd had a miniature crisis. He'd sprung to action, concern outweighing boundaries and definitions. He'd touched her and she'd let him, too affected by pain for it to register in her foggy mind until it was too late. The wall had been broken down, and though the overly rational part of her was screaming to put it back up, she simply wasn't sure she had the strength to anymore.

* * *

Calleigh heard the distinct sound of hurried footsteps on the pavement behind her and turned just in time to see Eric catching up to her.

"What are you doing?" she asked, noticing his keys in one hand, his gun and holster in the other.

"Driving you home."

She stopped, freezing in the middle of the crime lab's parking lot, and looked at him.

"Eric," she warned, crossing her arms over her chest with a slight grimace at the pressure on her shoulder. "You can't do this."

"And you can't drive home with one arm," he said knowingly.

Sighing, she swiped a stray strand of blonde hair out of her eyes with her good arm.

"You don't have to take care of me," she told him.

"I know," he assured, and against his better judgment he added, "But I want to. Besides, you have to pick Brie up, too."

That thought had her rethinking everything. She would drive herself home no matter what, but she would never drive Brie around when she wasn't one hundred percent. He could practically see the change in her, but she looked away again, shaking her head.

"I can ask Natalia for a ride, or Alexx…"

"DNA's completely backlogged and you'd have to wait on Alexx," he pointed out, shrugging. "Come on, Cal, it's just a ride."

She knew that it was just a ride in the way she offered him _just_ coffee, but now the tables were turned and she wasn't in a position to refuse him. Meeting his eyes, she found nothing but determination there. In reluctant, silent acceptance she forced a smile, and as he came up next to her he discreetly slipped an ice pack into her hand.

Calleigh smiled – genuinely this time – and followed him towards his car. Ever the gentlemen, he opened the door for her, and as she sat down she suddenly wished they'd taken her SUV. They'd be further apart, less enclosed, and when he slid into the driver's seat she realized just how close they really were.

This was the point where, in the past, she'd rest her arm on the console and sink into the plush seats. On days when he was feeling especially affectionate, Eric would lay his arm over hers and let their palms kiss. Fingers would gracefully interweave in a perfect fit. At stoplights he'd lift her hand to his lips and kiss the back of her hand, sometimes her knuckles – and sometimes, he'd look at her adoringly just before lowering his lips to the tiny patch of skin just beneath her wedding band and engagement ring.

She glanced down at her hand, rubbing her thumb over the angry white ring around her finger that spoke of something missing, of something lost.

Visions from the past overwhelmed her. The air was thicker, warmer now; she struggled to take a deep breath.

As they left the parking lot she wriggled off the replacement button-up she'd thrown on over her tank so she could gradually press the ice pack to her shoulder. It was cold and it stung; the chill, along with the pain, was the perfect diversion. And when she glanced down, the physical manifestation of that pain was more than enough to keep her attention for a moment or two.

She'd tried to cover it up, but it was to no avail. He'd already caught sight of the deep purple bruise already blossoming beneath her skin. It was nearly black, the outer edges of it tapering off into lighter discolorations, and he almost couldn't keep his eyes on the road.

"That looks bad," he commented.

She laughed a little, rolling her eyes. She knew it was every bit the loaded statement she thought it was. "Eric, I'm fine. We get hurt. It's part of the job."

"Yeah, that doesn't mean I'm okay with some convict throwing you around."

The sincerity of his anger and protectiveness softened her. She let her eyes linger on him before looking back down at her shoulder, readjusting the ice pack. She knew he wasn't satisfied. He was still worried, still needed to know she was truly okay. Feeling the heat of his gaze on her yet again, she tossed her pride aside to reassure him.

"I was cuffing him," she began, trying to recall what had happened in the blur before pain shot through her arm. Her eyes remained on the scenery flying by. "He suddenly elbowed me to get out of it and shoved me against a wall."

Anger burned in the pit of his stomach, again wanting to teach this lowlife a lesson, but he reined it in for her sake. He knew Calleigh well enough to know she'd handled the situation, and suddenly he was smirking as he imagined different scenarios playing out. "So what'd you do?"

"Kneed him in the groin and pinned _him_ against the wall," she answered nonchalantly, though she, too, was smirking a little.

Completely entranced by her smile – a rarity these days – he almost completely missed his mother's driveway. Slowing quickly, he made the familiar turn, barely getting the engine cut off before he noticed an overly excited four-year-old pop up in the bay window of the house.

He opened his door – would've opened Calleigh's had she not already been halfway up the walkway – and wistfully realized this felt all too familiar. Today almost felt like the good old days when they'd dropped Brie off, rode to work together, worked the same shift, picked her up, and drove home together as a family. Wondering if Aubrey would experience the same feeling, he prepared his head and his heart for the difficult questions that would inevitably leave her innocent lips.

She started before they'd even made it through the door.

"Mama _and_ Daddy?!" Aubrey asked excitedly, jumping up and down until the rarity of the situation set in. Suddenly quiet, she looked between them both warily. "Did I do something bad?"

"No, not at all," Calleigh assured, smiling. At that Aubrey was reaching up for her, and before she could tug on Calleigh's arm Eric was scooping her up into his own arms.

"Go easy on Momma," Eric told her, seating her against his side. "She hurt her shoulder at work today."

Aubrey frowned, suddenly staring at the ugly bruise forming on her mother's shoulder. "Does Mama need a Scooby Doo band-aid?"

Clorinda laughed, coming over to pull Calleigh into a careful hug. Calleigh was completely surprised, though, when Clorinda threw her other arm around her son and hugged them both tightly. She'd brought the two of them far, far too close, especially after the day's events, and Calleigh realized with a certain nostalgia that she could smell him all around her. The perfect mixture of Eric and aftershave overwhelmed her and she pulled away quickly, focusing her attention back on Aubrey though Eric's eyes lingered on her.

"I do need a band-aid," Calleigh answered with a quick glance at her shoulder and a smile. "Daddy's going to drive us home and you can fix me all up, okay?"

"Mija, are you okay?" Clorinda asked, resting a concerned hand on Calleigh's apparently good arm. If the physical evidence wasn't enough, the fact that Calleigh had willingly let Eric drive her over was troubling. Clorinda knew from experience that something had to be very, very wrong with Calleigh for her to let anyone – let alone Eric – do anything for her. She drew her eyes over Calleigh with a worried, maternal gaze, focusing mostly on her shoulder.

"I'm fine," she said for the millionth time that day, smiling reassuringly. "I just can't drive."

"Okay," Clorinda let out decidedly, though her brows still furrowed in concern. "If you need anything, you'll call me?"

"I will," Calleigh assured. She picked up Brie's light purple backpack, but Eric took it from her a moment later, not wanting to burden her body with even the smallest amount of weight.

Clorinda noted the gesture with a smile as she kissed her granddaughter goodbye.

Calleigh watched on with adoration as Eric walked ahead of her with Brie. His large, masculine frame made Aubrey look tiny again, a rarity these days since Calleigh often watched her baby sleep in "big girl beds" and learn to read. She certainly wasn't a baby anymore, but she still had Eric wrapped around her finger, Calleigh thought, smiling. If sporting a tiny purple backpack wasn't enough evidence, the elated grin on his face as he tickled Brie's stomach most definitely was. She giggled and squirmed in his arms until he let up, only stopping to open the passenger door of the car for Calleigh.

She smiled awkwardly at the gesture again, tucking her hair behind her ear, and eased into the seat while Eric buckled Aubrey into her car seat.

With a talkative four-year-old, the awkwardness on the ride home was much less palpable. Aubrey rattled on about playgroup and mermaids while Eric and Calleigh listened attentively, occasionally laughing and once exchanging amused looks. Calleigh had relaxed back into the seat, the ice pack once again pressed to her aching shoulder, when Aubrey began the inevitable questions.

"Is Daddy coming home with us?"

Calleigh tensed and Eric noticed, so he answered for her. "No, baby. I'm just taking you and Momma home."

"Oh," Aubrey said, her brows furrowing as she again tried to piece together the situation. "And then you're going home?"

"Yeah, that's right." Eric smiled wistfully, knowing it _wasn't_ right. He watched her in the rearview mirror, easily picking up on the confusion and displeasure on her face.

Suddenly she brightened hopefully and asked, "Can I wear your shirts, too? They're soft."

If he hadn't quite understood the implication of the "too," Calleigh tensing up even more certainly tipped him off. She wouldn't meet his eyes, and thankfully he couldn't take his own gaze off the road for long. Discreetly, she reached her good arm behind her and tugged on Aubrey's leg as a playful warning. Calleigh turned around just enough to send Aubrey a look that Eric caught a quick glimpse of and found utterly adorable.

"I didn't tell!" Aubrey insisted in a typical kid whisper, a whisper that was practically normal volume. She threw her hands up, playfully defensive.

"I know, good job," Calleigh said, laughing as she held the ice pack against her shoulder again. She completely refused to even look his way now.

Eric wouldn't have hesitated to tease her long ago, but now the notion of her wearing his shirts was so much more revealing. For the first time, he had some semblance of an understanding about how she felt. Some part of her, however large or small, missed him in some way. It was a small notion, and something he should have already known, but it was everything to him.

But for Calleigh the revelation was completely opposite. She wasn't even embarrassed; she'd simply closed off again, focusing on her shoulder and the houses flying by.

"I think my shirts are a little too big for you, Princess," Eric finally answered as he swung into Calleigh's driveway.

Calleigh used her left hand to tug the handle, releasing the door, and got out while Eric helped Aubrey. She met them at the front of the car, focusing on Aubrey to avoid the depth she knew would be in Eric's eyes.

"Do you need anything else?" Eric asked, not wanting to leave her while injured. "Food or…"

"No," she cut in quickly, then smiling apologetically…and appreciatively. "Thank you, but we'll be okay." She hesitantly met his eyes, swallowing down the lump of emotion that had welled up in her throat. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She was being defensive and he knew it. She was resetting the boundaries today had broken down, though she seemed to be doing it reluctantly this time around. Whether it was really to protect Aubrey or just her old form of self-preservation, he didn't know.

"You could take tomorrow off, you know," he said, steering away from personal and back to professional. "You can't be in the field anyway and you're somewhat useless in the lab." He cracked a bit of a smirk, meeting her eyes briefly. "No offense or anything."

"None taken." She smiled, looking down at Aubrey again and twisting her long ponytail around her fingers. A day with her daughter sounded good – sounded amazing, really. Before she would've toughed it out at the lab, but now she had something to stay home for. "Maybe I will," she said after a moment, and when she looked back up at him her eyes were brighter, more refreshed. "Anyway…thanks for everything today."

"No problem," he said honestly, eyes lingering on her. Leaning down, he kissed Aubrey's forehead, whispering, "I love you," and promising to talk later.

His eyes were on Calleigh as he stood, tucking his hands into his pockets as he delayed their always-awkward goodbye. Considering her promise last night, he hesitated even more.

"Cal," he breathed out softly. "About last night…"

"Maybe we could talk tomorrow," she offered as if reading his thoughts. She had always been good at that, though. Her fingers lightly grasped Aubrey's tiny hand as she looked up at him, obviously nervous despite still trying to hide every emotion.

"Tomorrow's…good," he assured, smiling a little. "I can ask my mom to watch Aubrey for the night."

"Okay." She nodded, thankful he automatically understood that Aubrey shouldn't be there for so many reasons – confusion just over him being there, pain if they fought…

He could practically read those reasons in her eyes and he glanced at Aubrey protectively, swallowing hard. "I'll call you tomorrow," he told Calleigh, and with another kiss to his daughter's forehead he was fishing his keys back out of his pocket as he walked towards his car.

Calleigh watched him go, that tiny part of her that kept speaking louder to her these days wishing she'd let him in. She wanted him to hold her, to dot kisses over her shoulder like she knew he would've long ago…and maybe still would. She wanted him to help with Aubrey and cook dinner – not because she needed him to or because she couldn't do it, but because that part of her _wanted_ him to. Because at some point in time she had let him in, had opened herself to him so fully that she even let him take care of her sometimes.

Mostly, her body just ached and she was ashamed she'd been overpowered today. She wanted to curl up in his strong arms and let him cradle and hug and kiss away the remnants of a terrible day. She just wanted him to hold her and let herself be weak and vulnerable for a moment, but she couldn't. She wasn't sure she even knew how to anymore.


	8. The Tension and the Spark

Happy Holidays, whichever one you celebrate. :) Here's my present to you all. Thanks to **restless-mess** for the read-through.

* * *

_Hands, like secrets, are the hardest thing to keep from you_

_Lines and phrases, like knives, your words can cut me through_

_Dismantle me down_

_Repair_

_You dismantle me_

_You dismantle me  
_

The waves crashed ashore successively, providing a rhythmic backdrop to the silence shared between the two women on the beach. They'd gracefully avoided the so-called elephant in the room throughout lunch, especially with Aubrey as a buffer, but now the waves were far from enough to fill the silence.

Aubrey ran ahead, bravely splashing through the waves and occasionally stopping to pick up shells or dig for crabs.

"She's really smart, you know," Alexx said, finally breaking the silence after a short distance. "She's well-ahead developmentally."

It was a compliment, Calleigh could tell, so she smiled appreciatively before fixing her eyes back on Aubrey dutifully. "She amazes me all the time," Calleigh admitted. "She can start kindergarten this year instead of waiting a year, if we want her to."

"Do you?"

"I think she's ready," Calleigh answered. "I don't know about Eric… We haven't talked about it." She pressed her lips together, rolling them nervously.

Alexx nodded, silently putting together the many, many indicators. "I get the feeling you and Eric haven't talked about much in a while…" She sounded concerned, motherly. Calleigh smiled sadly.

"We kind of took a break," she explained carefully. Swallowing down the lump in her throat, she looked down at the sand for just a moment before glancing back up at the shore, keeping track of Aubrey. This was the first time she'd had to explain this to anyone – anyone who deserved more than a few words or a couple vague half-truths, at least. This was _Alexx_. She'd been sort of a motherly friend to the entire team. And she'd practically watched them fall in love.

"We were stressed, working opposite shifts, putting a lot of things before us…" she continued.

She wasn't angry or bitter, Alexx noticed. She wasn't like the many women who had fallen out of love or loved men who'd fallen out of love with them. She just seemed sad – a little empty and a lot withdrawn.

"You didn't fall out of love, did you?" It was more of a statement, but enough of a question that Calleigh took in a deep breath and then held onto it, struggling to answer. She couldn't formulate the words – couldn't even consider that question, really. Alexx thought it was because she believed they had; Calleigh was simply too afraid to acknowledge the answer.

Alexx raised a questioning brow and scoffed a little. "You and Eric? I don't believe that. And believe me, I'm anything but a hopeless romantic," Alexx admitted, and Calleigh smiled a little at her tone. "People fall out of love everyday, after two months or twenty years…but not you and Eric."

Sighing, Calleigh tucked a stray lock of long hair behind her ear. She was suddenly aware that Alexx would see right through all of this – she knew her, she knew Eric, she knew how solid the relationship they had built was. She'd know it would take some outside stressor, some precipitating event, to rock their foundation. And she would know that Calleigh would likely never talk about it.

"Mama!" Suddenly Aubrey was splashing through the water just before them, running toward Calleigh excitedly. "Look at this shell! It has spots like a leopard!"

Laughing, Calleigh turned it over in her hands, admiring it enthusiastically for Aubrey's benefit. "This is beautiful, baby," she praised, leaning down to hand it back. "I think it's a Junonia shell. They're very hard to find."

Aubrey bit her lip in pure Calleigh fashion, obviously hesitant. "Can you keep it and show Daddy tonight at your meeting?"

"Sure." Calleigh palmed it and smiled, receiving an identical smile in return before Aubrey bounded off again.

When Calleigh looked back at Alexx, she was getting the raised-brow look she expected. "Meeting?" Alexx asked.

"Eric and I are going to talk tonight," she answered, fixing her eyes on Aubrey again. "Calling it a 'meeting' was the only way I could get Brie to not want to go."

Alexx smiled, her eyes also drifting ahead to Aubrey – Aubrey, who would bend over backwards just to see her parents together again, to get to spend time with them at the same time. Eric and Calleigh would never find themselves in a "stay together for the kids" mentality; they would always have Aubrey's best interest at heart, but they would never fall out of love… And maybe therein laid the problem, Alexx realized. They would do anything for Aubrey, even if it meant avoiding each other to spare her the trials and tribulations stress could bring upon a marriage.

"What you have," Alexx began, and Calleigh was surprised by the sudden determination in her voice. "That's not something that can be thrown away, not for any reason."

Calleigh rolled her lips again in thought, tearing her gaze away from Aubrey to hesitantly meet her friend's eyes. She forced a smile and sighed, knowing Alexx was on to her.

"I just don't want her to grow up like I did," Calleigh offered, the furthest she'd let anyone in in months. There was more to it – a lot more – but Aubrey was always a deciding factor.

"She won't," Alexx assured. "Not if she's with you and Eric." Glancing ahead, she watched as Aubrey happily squatted down, letting the waves rush through her fingers. "You can't be a martyr for her, Calleigh. What's best for her is seeing both of you happy."

Calleigh knew that. She just didn't know where to draw the line.

- - -

_Calleigh watched on, proud albeit nervous, as Eric held each of Aubrey's tiny hands in his to help her splash through the shallow waves. She shrieked, giggled, and tried to kick at them, but walking was a new development and she had absolutely zero balance. She nearly toppled over, but Eric simply held her hands, helping her regain her balance until she was walking again._

"_Look at her," Eric said, glancing up at Calleigh with proud eyes just briefly before training his eyes back on their one-year-old. Aubrey shrieked again, trying to rush the waves, and Eric laughed while Calleigh bit her lip nervously._

_Look at her? Calleigh hadn't taken her eyes off her. Her baby was walking perilously close to the _ocean_. No, she was _in _the ocean, her legs submerging further under every wave that crashed ashore. Didn't he remember how many bodies they'd recovered from that damn ocean?_

_She wrung her hands, trying to keep her worries to herself because a) he would laugh at her and b) she trusted him implicitly. And then an incoming wave splashed against her baby's chest and she lost it._

"_Eric, she's too close," she blurted out before she could rein it in. Eric looked up at her, seeing the honest worry in her eyes._

_She pressed her lips together, immediately regretting her possibly irrational outburst when Eric scooped Aubrey up in his arms. Confused and displeased, Aubrey squirmed in his arms and looked down, watching the waves she could no longer feel rush in._

"_Cal," he began, his voice soft and careful. "I'm not letting her go far. I think she's okay…"_

_But Calleigh wasn't convinced._

"_I'm sorry, I just…" she trailed off, her eyes focused on Aubrey lovingly…and over protectively, Eric noticed. She bit her lip, eyes drifting over to the vast ocean before them. "Three thousand, five hundred and eighty-two people die by drowning each year in the United States," she rattled off, eyes wide and watery. "More than a forth of those are children under fourteen."_

_This was one of the many ways their jobs were more of a curse than a blessing. He would've laughed at her irrational worry had she not been so genuinely afraid. Instead, he respected her anxiety and transferred Aubrey into her eager arms, knowing she needed the reassurance. Calleigh smiled gratefully, immediately hugging her daughter close and kissing her tiny forehead._

"_Most of those are swimming accidents, kids who can't swim falling into pools or swimming out too far in the ocean and getting caught in the undertow," he rationally pointed out. "We're just walking along the beach." He smiled a little, delicately tucking a windblown strand of blonde hair back behind her ear. She was being completely irrational, and it was kind of adorable._

"_I know." Her brows furrowed in thought, fighting between heart and reason, and she sighed, green eyes pleading with him. She was quite a vision in a light yellow sundress, barefoot and clinging to their daughter protectively, long blonde hair occasionally picking up in the breeze. Against the ocean, her eyes were nearly a blue-green, and he felt _two_ pairs of those gorgeous eyes on him – Calleigh's pleading with him to understand her fears and Aubrey's, though slightly darker, almost begging him to bring back those fun little waves to kick through._

"_Cal," he breathed out. Leaning into her, he wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging both her and Aubrey, and kissed her temple. "You trust me, right?" he whispered against her skin._

_Calleigh's eyes shot to his immediately, hating that he'd asked for reaffirmation of that. "Of course," she answered without hesitation. "I trust you with everything. You know that."_

_It was true. First she'd trusted him with her life and then her secrets. Next she'd trusted him with her heart, before she was even ready to. And then she'd trusted him enough to kiss her and taste her and love her. She'd trusted him enough to let him slip a ring on her left hand, to take vows on this very beach, and to have a child with. She trusted him with everything – even their daughter's life, which, she'd quickly learned, was the highest degree of trust a mother could share with someone._

"_I had her," he assured, taking Aubrey's tiny hand in his when she reached for him. "I think she was okay."_

"_It's just…" Calleigh began, chewing the inside of her lip, unconvinced. "Maybe she's not ready."_

"_Or maybe you're not ready?" he asked hesitantly, the corners of his lips curving upward just slightly. Aubrey was everywhere these days – she'd figured how to crawl up stairs long ago and now she was teetering along throughout the house. With walking came independence, and with that came letting go just a little._

"_Maybe." She scrunched up her face adorably and then smiled. "I'm sorry, I'm being-"_

"_A good mom," Eric finished for her, smiling. "A little crazy, but good…"_

_She scowled playfully at that, then turned her attention to their daughter when Aubrey extended a hand downward, reaching for the waves. Watching them both, Eric sensed Calleigh's internal conflict and placed a hand on her hip, smoothing his thumb over the soft yellow material hugging her skin._

"_Cal," he uttered, drawing her eyes back to his. "She was having fun. She'll be okay."_

_Calleigh bit her lip, finally realizing that it was _just _walking through waves and _maybe _she'd been just a teensy bit irrational. Carefully, she set Aubrey back down on those unsteady legs and held her waist supportively. Aubrey took a minute to steady herself and, realizing her mother had her, took a brave step forward into the oncoming shallow wave. As soon as the water reached her legs she was giggling and shrieking again, attempting to effortlessly splash through them like her parents. Calleigh couldn't help but smile this time._

_After a moment, Eric leaned down, taking one of Aubrey's tiny hands in his fingers and again helping her walk through the sand and waves. Eventually, Calleigh grew more comfortable and she gradually let go of Aubrey's waist to take her other hand. Both of them were leaning over awkwardly to walk with their daughter, but neither cared. They continued on until Aubrey reached up for Calleigh, tired of walking, and happily settled in against her mother's side._

_Calleigh held her close and sighed, knowing by the way Eric wrapped a supportive arm around her waist that he knew her thoughts were elsewhere. Her brows furrowed just slightly as she focused on Aubrey and, with a deep exhale, she looked over at Eric._

"_I always figured you'd be the overprotective one," she admitted, a somewhat amused smile gracing her lips for a moment._

"_Oh, I'm overprotective," Eric assured. "About who gets to be around her and where she goes, and I already know that she's not dating until she's twenty."_

_Calleigh laughed, but as she studied Aubrey's perfect features and her little pink button nose, she thought for once she might be okay with that rule. Eric watched Calleigh, sensing something deeper in her eyes._

"_This is part of why I was afraid to have children," she said softly, smiling wistfully. "I worry too much. After my parents, I feel like it's my job to spend every waking minute letting her know she's safe and loved, and that she never has to worry about the things I worried about."_

_Sighing, Eric slowed and turned to face her, affectionately tucking hair behind her ear again. "She knows, Cal," he assured, wrapping his arms around her small waist and kissing her forehead._

_Calleigh bit her lip, eyes flickering to the ocean. She knew with one little admission Eric would see her worry as far less irrational and more like a product of her own reality. Exhaling, she let out, "Anna almost drowned once…when we were little."_

_Eric rubbed her back slowly, imploring her to continue. She met his eyes as she did._

"_My parents were fighting and they weren't paying attention." She shrugged, instinctively tightening her hold on Aubrey. "She just went a little too far."_

"_Cal," he breathed out, pulling her close and kissing her hair. "That would never happen with us," he assured her, and when she smiled knowingly a little he smirked. "You'd never take your eyes off her long enough to fight with me."_

"_Hey." She glared playfully, pushing him away and pinching his side through his t-shirt._

_He chuckled and tugged her back to him, wrapping his arms around both her and Aubrey. "We're nothing like them," he assured her, but she already knew._

"_We're good together," she noted as he rested his forehead against hers. Aubrey's tiny hand immediately landed on her father's cheek and Calleigh smiled, brushing her lips against his in a brief kiss. "I need to let go a little… She's growing up."_

"_Just a little," Eric agreed. With a hand on Calleigh's hip, he looked at their attention-hungry daughter and smiled, gently tugging on her little toes until she giggled._

"_It's just that I love her so much," Calleigh said. With adoring eyes, she watched the two of them with awe. "I would do anything for her, for you, for us."_

"_Me too," he responded, determination in his eyes as he held her gaze. She knew he meant it just as much as she did. They'd taken a long, careful road to get here._

_After a moment he smiled, remembering he'd once known such determination from her applied to chasing suspects and interrogating murderers. She was no less vigilant regarding their work, but now the very same keenness and determination was applied to love and motherhood._

"_What?" She narrowed her eyes curiously at the little smirk curving up the corners of his lips._

"_You've gone soft," he teased, chuckling._

_Calleigh rolled her eyes. "I have not."_

"_A little." He wouldn't dare admit that he liked it, so he just slid an arm around her again and held her hip._

"_Do you really wanna test that theory?" she asked, raising a challenging brow. "Because I have a .22 strapped to my thigh."_

"_You do not…" He should have known after all these years to not put it past Calleigh to pack heat for a walk on the beach with their daughter. She was dressed so pretty and casual, though, that the idea seemed ludicrous._

_She stopped, eyebrow still cocked, and put her hand on her hip. After a quick glance around the empty beach, he let his curious fingers graze her lower thigh. Gradually, he trailed his hand upward, beneath the hem of her dress, until he felt the holster wrapped around her upper thigh. Running his fingers around the band, sliding over her skin in a tantalizingly slow caress, he finally felt the distinct feel of metal – a tiny little pistol._

_Laughing, his fingertips graced her skin again, slowly trailing around to the back of her thigh. "That's so…" he trailed off, shaking his head and smirking. Teasingly caressing up and down her skin now, he rested his forehead against her temple. "Is it just me…or is it her naptime now?"_

"_I think that could be arranged." Grinning devilishly, she threaded their fingers together and took a few steps backward in the direction of their house, tugging him along with her. Eventually she turned, walking with him, and when she had to take her hand back to support Aubrey her eyes locked with his. She smiled and he didn't have to ask why._

_They _were_ good together. And she really did trust him implicitly. She trusted him with her, with Aubrey. She trusted them to be nothing like her parents. She trusted him to help her let go, to be a better parent… She trusted him in a way she'd never anticipated trusting anyone._

* * *

She felt strange here. Almost unwelcome. This was Eric's home, the home _he_ had picked out and made his own when she desperately needed time apart. Guilt crept in as she realized she was invading his personal space, his solace from the world – and maybe from her. But he had invited her here without hesitation, and it was better than their old house anyway, where they would be haunted by memories of what used to be.

Now she was standing before his door with sweaty palms. She'd been here only a very few times to drop Aubrey off or pick her up, and she'd definitely never been inside. Ringing his doorbell was more than a little intimidating.

Eric found her on his doorstep looking casual but beautiful in jeans and a white top that sloped just a little into a v-neckline. For the first time and far too late, he realized this might have been a terrible idea. Talking was necessary, yes, but now she was here in his home. Now he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms, bury his face into the beautiful crook of her neck, and inhale the sweet scent of vanilla mixed with chamomile shampoo. He wanted to kiss her skin, to play connect-the-dots with the few adorable freckles he knew were scattered across her shoulders just beneath the edge of that white top. He just wanted her.

And she held the power to erase all hope from his heart with just a few words.

But her nervous smile warmed him, as did her hesitant, "Hey," and he smiled as he held the door for her.

With one glance around she could tell he didn't consider this home. He'd made it as lived-in as possible, probably for Aubrey's sake, but it was lacking that comfortable charm she knew he'd had at their house and even in his previous bachelor pad. The necessities, along with a few extras, were placed around the house – a large, comfortable sofa, a bare coffee table, and a few scattered framed photos. She knew the dvd player and the shelves of movies were probably for Aubrey, but the lack of his own personal items told her this wasn't home to him. It wasn't permanent.

That notion both comforted her and worried her.

Her eyes flickered back to him as they both stood awkwardly in his foyer, suddenly aware of just how strained a "talk" over coffee would be considering the current distance between them. Eric slipped his hands into his pockets and gave her a reassuring look.

"This is really, really awkward, isn't it?" he asked, lifting a hand to run his fingers through his short hair. "You coming over here tonight, us sitting down to talk…"

"Yeah," she answered almost immediately, then tilted her head to the side a little and smiled. He laughed, shaking his head, and his eyes landed back on hers. "But I mean we have to talk," she continued, making him feel slightly more comfortable. "And you got stuck at work until late, so…" She shrugged, still smiling.

"That's true," he agreed, smiling and motioning her further into the house. She hesitantly followed him until she was standing in his kitchen and feeling even more unsure of this all.

"How'd that case end anyways?" she asked, already effectively stalling. Work was a safe topic.

"The Owens murder, from last week?"

"Yeah." She nodded, leaning against the counter opposite him and folding her arms over her chest. "Horatio had a lead yesterday."

"Yeah, we finally got the guy," he told her, and as he rambled on about the guy's toll booth pass and catching him on his way out of state, all she could do was watch him. As he reached up into a cabinet, the t-shirt he'd likely just changed into revealed the muscles in his shoulders that were just as toned as ever. Her eyes trailed over him, unabashedly since he was focused on measuring coffee, and she took in the strong arms he'd wrapped her in so many times in the past. She'd rejected his comforting in the past because it was like an open door to vulnerability and weakness, but right now those comforting arms seemed so very appealing.

"So how's the shoulder?" he asked, startling her when he looked over his shoulder. Surprised to find her eyes already on him intently, he smiled a little. "Did you see a doctor?"

Calleigh pursed her lips, fighting a smile. "Kind of."

"How do you kind of go to a doctor?" he asked, amused.

"I had lunch with Alexx." She shrugged slightly under his playfully disapproving eyes.

Knowing he might never convince her, he gave up, instead focusing on digging out some sugar and cream while the coffee pot hissed to life.

"Mugs?"

"Cabinet behind you," Eric answered as he rummaged through his fridge.

When he looked up, she was stretching up to reach into the cabinet, balancing precariously on the tips of her toes. He hadn't organized this kitchen with her height in mind; the mugs were situated far too high for her small frame. Instinctively, he came up behind her and reached upward, his chest making contact with her back. Also instinctive was the hand he rested on her hip to steady himself as he grabbed two mugs by their handles. She froze at his touch, quieted, startled, and warmed all at once. His body brushed hers again as he set them on the counter before her, both of them completely silent, stunned by the intimate contact that had once been so ordinary.

Calleigh remained still, his chest still so close to her back, his hand frozen at her hip.

"Thanks…" she said softly after a moment, swallowing down the huge lump of nerves in her throat.

Hoping to break the awkward moment, she steeled herself and turned around, knowing movement would bring them back down to earth and he'd step away. But he didn't. He was still too surprised by the comfort of her proximity, by the softness of her body beneath his touch. Old habits die hard, and she was one he certainly did not want to break.

Her movement caused his hand to skate over the front of her abdomen, the warmth of his fingertips gracing her skin even through the cotton material of her top. That little brush of contact had him so far gone that he was suddenly brought back down to reality only by the realization of how dangerous this was, how inappropriate.

"Sorry," he awkwardly apologized, immediately removing his hand from its assumed position on her hip.

She smiled nervously, not daring to meet his eyes. "That's okay." She backed up, hands steadying herself on each side of the counter behind her.

Neither moved for fear of another awkward encounter. They both remained there, close but not touching, her eyes gradually growing bolder to discreetly trace the contours of his face. She took in his strong jaw line, the perfect, careless stubble that littered his cheeks, and the curve of his bottom lip, suddenly realizing part of why she'd so vehemently avoided him for seven months.

A break threw all their issues to the wayside, leaving only the desperate ache that missing him had left. It was easy to forget that she had shut him out, that work had put more stress on them than they could bear, and that a miscarriage had left her with a void she couldn't even acknowledge, let alone try to fix. It was so, so simple to remember only that she loved him more than she'd believed was ever possible, that the two of them coming together was like the final piece of a puzzle whose solution had evaded the both of them for so long.

Calleigh shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his stare.

"So," she began, needing some direction before she followed an instinct she wasn't sure she should follow. But her eyes were focused on his soft, full lips as she mumbled, "We were going to talk…"

He was a little entranced by her proximity, so his eyes searched her face, taking in the curves of her lips and her bright green eyes before finally managing a, "Yeah."

Her eyes flickered to his, admiring the deep tones of brown, and she almost got lost there but managed to catch herself. "Aubrey," she blurted out, needing something concrete to direct their focus. But the only thought that entered her mind thereafter was that Aubrey had some of those very tones in her eyes – Eric's golden browns, her greens, combining to create a striking hazel. Aubrey was _theirs_ – half her, half him, and wholly something that was far too sacred to tear apart.

Judging by the smile playing across his lips, his thoughts were quite similar. "What about her?" he asked, noting her half-smile.

"We need to talk about her," she managed. Nervously shifting, she placed her weight on her palms, leaning against the counter as he took a barely noticeable step forward. Whether it was intentional or he was just shifting, she didn't know.

Eric nodded, studying the way she bit her lip, the nervous, expectant look in her eyes, and the determination in her gaze. "She reminds me more of you every day."

They both knew that wasn't what she'd meant at all. She looked away, pressing her lips together to hide a smile.

"We need to talk about us, too." His eyes were on hers already when she fixed her gaze back on him.

She smiled sadly, eyes softening, and against all the warning bells and defense mechanisms in her heart and mind, she placed her palm against his chest. He thought she might push him away, but instead she stood still, counting the beats of his heart beneath his warm skin.

"What about us?" she asked, echoing him.

He took in a shaky breath, resisting every urge to feel more of her, to pin her hips to the counter and resume the perfect rhythm of their kisses that had been broken for too long. Hesitating, he shook his head, not wanting to assume too much from a simple touch.

"That conversation may require coffee," he said, attempting lightheartedness and again directing their focus. He reached behind her with one hand for the mugs, unintentionally coming even closer.

It was too much for her.

"Eric," she whispered for the first time in a long time. Instinctively, her palm slid downward until she could grasp his shirt, holding him close. He was slightly off balance, the tug forcing him to place a hand on the counter along the other side of her.

She met his eyes and this time he couldn't deny the intensity there. They were fighting a losing battle. They meant far too much to each other to carry on a casual conversation over coffee. He should've known that, but at the risk of getting his hopes up he'd underestimated her feelings for him.

Before she knew what she was doing Calleigh tilted her head upward in silent invitation just as he leaned in. Noses brushed just before he tilted his head, pressing his lips to hers like he'd wanted to for seven long months.

Guards down and swords sheathed, they gave in to what they'd denied themselves.

She hesitated, surprised by the familiar warmth and taste of him, but he wasn't wasting a second. His hands gently gripped her hips, urging her back against the counter, and shortly after she was pressed against it his body was pressed against her. It was wonderfully suffocating, desperate and wanton after so long apart. She had missed this. She had missed _him_.

He took her bottom lip between his, kissing and then parting just briefly to slide back up, kissing her firmly and fully. Hands she had lost all control of were at the back of his neck, occasionally dipping beneath his collar to glide over warm skin and feel his muscles tighten as he leaned into her. When her tongue grazed his bottom lip he was a goner.

With obvious intention, his hands slid down to the backs of her thighs, lifting her onto the counter in one swift, strong move. His mouth quickly sought out hers again as he settled between her legs, hands slowly gliding over her thighs and up to her waist. After several more kisses she tore her lips from his, turning her head to the side so her forehead remained against his.

"Eric," she whispered again as she broke away. "This is bad." Even as she said it, a smile spread across her lips.

"No, this is good." He ducked down for her playfully, sliding a hand beneath her chin and guiding her lips to his. She allowed him another round of kisses, laughing when his tongue brushed against hers and his fingers found their way into her hair.

"It's bad," she argued against his lips, but there was no meaning to it. She slid closer to the edge, her thighs hugging his sides and her legs wrapping around his on either side.

She knew they should've been discussing a multitude of things – Aubrey, them, work – but she simply couldn't resist the urge to have him closer. Twisting the hem of his shirt around her fingers, she finally inched it up, exposing toned muscles she didn't hesitate to touch. Following her lead, he released her only to pull his shirt over his head and drop it carelessly on the counter behind her.

The muscles in his abdomen were just as toned as she remembered, and they rippled beneath her delicate touch as she grazed her fingertips over his skin. The familiarity reminded her of the magnitude of what they were doing and her eyes met his emotionally. For a moment she just wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him against her again.

Sliding his arms around her waist, he held her close, taking in the comforting scent of her shampoo and light perfume as he kissed her temple.

"Cal," he said softly, then kissing the shell of her ear. "Do you still…?" He needed to know.

She couldn't say the word either, but she tightened her hold on him and buried her face in the warm crook of his neck. She kissed his pulse point lovingly and that was answer enough.

After a moment she brushed her lips against the base of his throat, gradually working her way back up to his lips. He took her mouth firmly this time, fingers sliding through her hair as he cupped the back of her head.

"Stay with me," he mumbled against her lips. He nipped at her bottom lip gently and soothed the corner of her mouth with a kiss.

"Aubrey," she whispered, closing her eyes. It was so easy to forget everything else between them but her.

"Amelia said she could just stay there and sleep over with her cousins if it got late," he said, his lips now gracing her jaw with a row of soft kisses. As he reached her neck they became open-mouth and teasing. "Stay?"

Calleigh sighed contentedly, his warm fingertips now on the bare skin of her back imploring her. She sighed contentedly as his lips closed over a spot just below her ear that had always driven her crazy.

"Okay." She smiled, trailing a finger over the large muscles in his shoulders.

Amazingly, it didn't feel like giving in at all. It just felt like allowing the inevitable.

So she let him kiss her, let him peel her top over her head, and let him lead her upstairs, his lips never leaving her skin for long. For once she didn't hesitate to kiss him back and bask in the feel of having him all around her again. She didn't have to hesitate because she had always trusted him with her heart. Always would.

She just didn't trust herself. For tonight, her trust in him was more than enough because falling into him was all there was left to do.


	9. Shaded With Patience

Sorry this took a bit longer than usual! I came down with a bad case of Writer's Block. Thanks to **TexasJen** for getting me unstuck. She gets credit for the end of this because her ideas inspired and guided what I ended up writing...so thank her! : ) Also, thank you to all of you for the reviews! I try to always reply, but to those of you I missed or those who weren't logged in: THANK YOU! I really, really appreciate you taking the time to tell me what you think.

* * *

_You're the storm and the calm_

_The dove and the bomb_

_The ghost that relieves all my fears_

_Don't let this pass in cold_

_As years and sheets unfold_

_We'll be able to sleep all alone_

The room was bathed in lambent shadows, a product of what little soft moonlight managed to escape a cloudy sky and creep beneath the curtains. Still, he could see her well enough to trace the bottom curve of her smile with his thumb. She was looking up at him as he lingered over her, situated on his side next to her, and she ran her fingers over the back of his neck lovingly.

After a moment his thumb slid down to her chin, tilting her mouth upward to meet his as he leaned down. She sighed contentedly at the feel of his lips on hers again after a brief separation, loving the way he kissed her fully but delicately then concentrated on her lower lip before sliding back up to take her fully again.

His hand snuck beneath the covers, brushing the side of her breast as his fingers trailed down her bare side. She laughed against his lips as he adjusted the covers, beginning to cover her with his weight again.

"What time is it?" she whispered between kisses, immediately pressing her lips to his again. She wasn't the least bit interested in time, but somewhere in the very dusty recesses of her rational mind she knew she _should_ be. They'd been cuddling and caressing for a while now, basking in the afterglow and occasionally drifting off to sleep for a little while. She had lost all concept of time.

"Eight," he lied. Smirking, he slid his hand around to the dip in her back, tracing her curves.

She laughed again, playfully and purposefully sliding her hands over the muscles in his arms to wrap her own arms around his shoulders. "Liar. I got here at eight-thirty."

"Okay." His lips slid against hers expertly, kissing her top lip before his tongue grazed her bottom one. She took the bait, parting her lips as she arched her body against his until her skin just barely brushed his. "Nine."

"Mmm, no," she mumbled, kissing his chin. "That lasted much longer than half an hour. Impressive after seven months, by the way." She grinned, sliding her toes along his calf beneath the sheets until she'd wrapped her leg around his.

Eric chuckled, shaking his head playfully and pinning her wrists to the bed. At the slightest wince from her he immediately let up, remembering the ugly purple bruise on her shoulder he'd just barely seen before in the shadows.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, soothing the area with gentle, barely-there kisses.

"It's okay," she assured, sighing when his kisses gradually moved to her neck. As she turned to allow him better access, she caught sight of the glowing red numbers through bleary eyes. _1:57._ They had drifted off into sleep for longer than she'd thought. She groaned, partly in displeasure at the time and partly in _lots_ of pleasure because of the exquisite sensations he was creating along her neck. "I have to be up in four hours. We were supposed to talk."

"We can…_talk_…tomorrow," he offered playfully, fingers diving into her hair as he cupped the back of her head. She laughed as his kisses grew light over her collarbone, his lips almost tickling her skin.

"You do realize that talking is not a euphemism for me naked in your bed, right?"

He smirked, lifting his head to meet her eyes. "Definitely."

Settling a knee between her legs, he trailed his hand down to her waist, marveling at the feel of her soft skin. It had been so long since he'd touched her like this, and so long since he'd been privy to the sensations she awakened within him with the lightest caresses. He sighed thoughtfully, studying her all tangled up in his sheets looking absolutely gorgeous, and turned serious for a moment.

"We have a lot to talk about, Cal, and we will," he assured. Smiling, he let his fingers graze her skin, circling her belly button. "It's just…"

"It's just…" she implored him to continue, searching his eyes.

The absence of his lips left her wanting him, and suddenly she understood – not that she hadn't before, really.

"It's just," she started for herself, agreeing as she pushed up onto her good arm a little and captured his lips with hers. Needing to feel his skin again, her fingers skirted low across his abdomen, coming to rest at his sides. She pulled him towards her, wrapping her leg tighter around his to urge him down until his body kissed hers.

It was just that they couldn't possibly stay away from each other even if they tried.

* * *

Eric grinned as soon as he laid eyes on her. She was all professional now with her black pants, classy heels, and lab coat secured over what looked like a black button-up blouse. Her hair, however, was a different story. The usually straight locks fell down her back in her natural waves and he chuckled silently as he came up behind her.

He knew exactly why she was a little less put-together – by her standards, not his – this morning. She had left his house, fresh from a joint shower and uncharacteristically late, in her clothes from yesterday. Her hair had been soaking wet and she'd carelessly balled it up into a messy bun with a vow to dry it at home. But she'd been late and he was the reason, so clearly that hadn't gone according to plan.

Calleigh scribbled something onto a notepad – bullet weights, probably – and then placed both palms against the counter as she waited on the computer to search IBIS.

Eric toyed with the items in his hand as he stepped in close, his chest brushing her back just as his hands skirted over her forearms before settling over her hands. She tensed at first and then relaxed, smiling at the distinct feel of his body almost pressed against hers.

His nose brushed her hair aside as he buried his face in her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of his own shampoo and her mousse – a vain attempt at controlling her waves. Still grinning, he lifted his lips to her ear and tucked something – a few things, actually – beneath her palm.

"You left these on my nightstand," he whispered, voice husky and deep. Glancing down, she found her necklace, matching earrings, and a piece of what appeared to be her favorite dark chocolate, judging by the familiar, shiny red paper. "And that," he continued, lips sensually brushing the shell of her ear, "I stole from Valera's bowl in the break room."

"How romantic," she teased, laughing. But her eyes were grateful yet guarded as she looked back at him.

His hand grazed her back before he stepped away – thankfully, she thought, only because they were at work. His eyes lingered where his touch couldn't, though, and his eyes drew over her golden locks, across her neck, and finally up to her bright green eyes. She was affected; her cheeks were flushed with the tiniest bit of blush, her thoughts were obviously elsewhere, and her breathing had quickened the moment he'd touched her. Still, he could tell that she was slightly uncomfortable, more hesitant than she'd been last night and this morning.

Smiling, she tucked the jewelry into her lab coat, her gaze drifting back to the computer as it blipped through potential matches.

"What's going on?" he asked, taking a safer position on the side of the table adjacent from her.

"Well, this is standard, cheap ammunition found at pretty much any gun store," she began, her thoughts already back on the case. She needed to throw herself into work to avoid the internal conflict currently stirring within her. "I'm running the striation pattern through IBIS."

"Good to know, but uh, that's not really what I meant…"

Meeting his eyes again, she sighed. Silence settled over them for a moment as she struggled against the urge to shut him out. Last night had been wonderful, but it had solved absolutely nothing. They still had a daughter and a mess of issues between them, and the latter was rightfully sure to take the back burner for the former.

"I was just thinking about tonight," she admitted, her lips tightening sadly. "About Aubrey. We have a lot to talk about, but…" she trailed off, shrugging.

"But I'll have her tonight," he finished for her, focusing on her concerned eyes.

He had to admit to himself that he'd considered inviting her over, but he knew it was wrong. They had carefully constructed a world where he existed in his house and Calleigh in hers, the two never mixing. A sudden, questionable visit would be confusing for Aubrey and might give her too much hope too soon.

"We have to be careful, Eric," she said softly. "You and I, we…" She wanted to say they were a bit of a mess – far too in love with too many issues still between them – but she rethought it with a sad smile. "She needs consistency, and we haven't sorted everything out yet… I don't want to tear this away from her twice."

"Neither do I," Eric agreed, the determination in his voice leaving no room for misinterpretation: he meant it in more ways than one.

Calleigh averted her eyes, absentmindedly unscrewing a vice. This was getting a little heavy – a little too close to the issue of _them_ as a family, a topic she wasn't altogether sure she was ready to discuss.

"Just promise me we'll do this right," she requested of him, her voice filled with emotion.

"We will," he assured her. "We'll keep her away from this until we're sure."

Her eyes finally flickered to his, troubled yet determined, and she studied the longing in his eyes. She knew he wanted to jump right back in and pick up where they left off before everything got so damn hard, but that was impossible. She was less uninhibited, less sure, and they would both put Aubrey first. Always.

"So I'll pick Brie up like usual and take her to my house," he said, needing that direction because his heart so desperately wanted otherwise.

She pressed her lips together and nodded once. "And I'll go home," she continued, surprised by how easily that ache returned and settled within the depths of her heart.

He caught her disappointed tone despite the attempt to hide it. Still, he was left wondering if she was as deeply affected as him. She could be so collected and calculated while he knew his emotions were reflected in his features, his heart on his sleeve.

"Yeah," he reluctantly agreed. Neither of them was willing to verbally acknowledge the disappointment over the arrangement for fear of the consequences. Acknowledging it would increase the ache tenfold, would risk them treading dangerously close to giving in.

The computer suddenly sounded, alerting them to a match, and Calleigh turned the screen toward him after reading the information. She met his eyes unsurely, their conversation, as always, somewhat unfinished.

"I'll get H and go."

She nodded again, holding his gaze with emotion she hadn't expressed in a long time. "Be careful."

"I will." With a pointed look, he focused on her telling green eyes before pulling out his phone and turning to leave.

Eyes never leaving him, she sighed, knowing they'd danced around a topic once again. There had been close to no resolution, such little reassurance.

"Eric," she called out, watching him turn around hopefully. Looking downward shyly, her hand dipped into the pocket of her lab coat, nervously winding the silver necklace around her fingers.

"Last night was…" She trailed off for a moment, biting her lip as she searched for the words and then smiling. Amazing was a given. Amazing was always nice to hear, but altogether meaningless to the bigger picture and not at all what she wanted to say, what he needed to hear. What she wanted to say ran much deeper and was so much harder to convey. She smiled awkwardly. "Last night was…important."

As if following her thought process, he grinned and then just smiled appreciatively.

"Yeah," he agreed, smiling at her obvious discomfort. "Last night was…important." He emphasized the word almost teasingly, grinning at her yet again.

* * *

Picking up Aubrey was an entirely new experience now.

Throughout the past seven months, she had been both the highlight of his day and the reminder of his loss. She was just so Calleigh in almost every way, from the green in her eyes and her long, wavy hair to her strong personality and quick-mouthed quips. She was, he imagined, the child Calleigh would have been had she not been squelched by an alcoholic father and a neglectful mother.

It was utterly impossible for him to look at Aubrey and not see Calleigh in everything she did. Her lips were fuller, like his, but she pressed them together just like Calleigh when she was thinking. When she was exasperated, she'd sigh heavily and place her hands on her hips, just as Calleigh had playfully done when he was being a little too…Eric – too overprotective or too silly, usually.

He was constantly reminded of what they had been, how in love they were back then and how perfect their little family had truly been. Before, it had been an unpleasant reminder, the epitome of bittersweet.

Now, though, when Aubrey ran to him he saw Calleigh's bright eyes and it only made a ridiculously wide grin spread across his lips. She was such a perfect combination of them both – a reminder of what they'd created, of how good they were together. And last night had proven that they were _still_ good together.

"Daddy!" Her arms were around his neck before he'd even finished hoisting her up into his arms, hugging her in the middle of his sister's living room. "I missed you, but I slept in Kara's bed and she has blankets with _horses_ on them and no one had to go to school 'cause the teachers had a workday and I played soccer with the boys and-" She stopped suddenly, running out of breath, and swiftly inhaled a round of fresh air. "And 'buela came and we made co…kees…toes."

"Coquitos?" he supplied, watching recognition flash in her eyes.

"Uh huh!"

"Well it sounds like you had a fun day," Eric noted, watching Aubrey smile broadly in pure Calleigh fashion. He grinned again, tickling her belly before he set her back down on the floor. "Go say bye to your cousins and we'll head home to watch a movie."

"Okay!" She scrambled off and his sister, Amelia, winced before looking at Eric apologetically.

"Sorry about the sugar overload…" she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"That's okay." He laughed a little, and she immediately noticed something was different – had the moment he walked in, actually. "She had a big day. I'm sure she'll crash when we get home."

Amelia nodded, pursing her lips a little as she studied him. He seemed happier, lighter.

"So…I know you can't solve everything in one night," she began carefully, "but did you and Calleigh work some things out?"

Eric grinned again at the thought of last night, quickly ducking his head in a vain attempt to be discreet. "Oh, we worked some stuff out alright," he mumbled, chuckling quietly. Running his hand over the back of his neck and through his hair, he tried to collect himself.

Amelia froze, studying him as her eyes narrowed. "_Eric,_" she reprimanded, giving him a well-earned smack on the back of his head. She laughed, eyes alight with amusement. "That's not going to get you anywhere."

"I disagree," Eric said, grinning practically from ear to ear.

* * *

Eric had become all too familiar with his nights feeling more than a little incomplete. Something – or, more accurately, _someone_ – was always missing, whether it was just Calleigh or both Calleigh and Aubrey. There was nothing like putting Aubrey to bed alone to make him miss Calleigh with a desperate ache that refused to dissipate. Years ago they'd made a habit of spending time together once their daughter was in bed. Whether they watched a movie, made love, or simply lay together, he cherished that time. It was special and generally uninterrupted; it was theirs.

He longed for that time literally every night he was left alone after putting Aubrey to bed. He missed Calleigh – missed the feel of her body cradled against his, the smell of her hair as it fell all around them, and the weight and warmth of her hand over his on her stomach. The sound of her tired, sleep-laden voice uttering his name had eluded him for far too long, and yet it was still fresh in his mind.

That longing was nothing new, but the power to do something about it was. After last night, he was in a rush to quench that longing. He wanted to spend time with her and Aubrey, to have quiet nights after busy days together. Mostly, he just wanted her.

Last night had been a tease – a blur of Calleigh, soft whispers, and blonde hair. A night was entirely too little time together after so long apart and he ached to have her there with him, to trace the contours of her beautiful curves as she lay beside him. And if he couldn't have her there with them, he at least wanted – or maybe needed – to hear her voice.

Before he knew what he was doing, his hand had crept over to the kitchen counter and his fingers were scrolling through the contacts on his cell phone, seeking her voice at the other end of the line. The sound of her soft, "Hey…" had his body buzzing with a thousand emotions that overwhelmed him for a moment – so much so that he left her hanging in silence. He heard her quiet sigh as she stretched, a sure indicator that she'd been sleeping, and couldn't help but smile as he pictured her tangled in a down comforter and sheets, stretching luxuriously.

"Is everything okay?" Calleigh asked, sitting up just slightly in bed. The book she'd fallen asleep reading slid off her stomach and into a sea of sheets.

"Yeah," he immediately reassured, smiling a little at his indirectness. Calling for no reason hadn't been a typical event for them for quite some time. "Sorry I woke you."

She would've denied that he had, but clearly he already knew. "It's okay," she said softly, smiling. "I fell asleep before I meant to anyways…worked late, went for a run, showered, and crashed." She laughed a little at herself and ran a hand through her still-damp hair.

He was going to make some quip about how twelve-hour days could do that to you, but he got a little stuck on the mental image of fresh-from-the-shower-Calleigh, and so a moment later he was tripping over his thoughts, searching for something solid to say.

"Aubrey ran out of pajamas here," was the first thing that came to mind. "Somehow I ended up with only two sets, and they're in the laundry covered in orange juice or syrup or God knows what."

She chuckled at that, and because this was so obviously some diversion. "Do you want me to bring some over?"

_Yes_, resounded inside his heart and his mind, but he had already talked himself out of using that excuse earlier. Besides, he promised her they would keep Aubrey out of this until they were sure of what they wanted. If she showed up in his doorway, there would be no way he could resist her.

"No," he answered reluctantly. "She's all tucked in now… I just let her wear one of my old shirts. She was practically swimming in it."

"Cute," she said, picturing their tiny four-year-old in one of his large, masculine tees. The point of this phone call was becoming more and more vague, but she didn't mind at all. It was nice to hear his voice at night, nice to be soothed by the lovely warmth of his deep tone. Relaxing into the pillows filling her otherwise empty bed, she sighed contentedly. "I'll send a bunch with her next time…"

"Okay."

He didn't want there to be a next time. He didn't want to send Aubrey back and forth anymore, or trade clothes and stuffed animals from one house to another, but he knew it was for the best right now. Until they were sure of this, and until he could be sure that Calleigh wouldn't shut down again, they would protect Aubrey with the same fierceness that had made Calleigh want to separate in the first place. For now, he would trust how right last night felt, and he would find solace in the sound of her voice at the other end of the line. And he'd simply imagine the weight and warmth of her hand over his as he forced himself to fall asleep alone.

His silence spoke to her more than his words could have, and she knew his mind was racing with thoughts, knew he was probably basking in the sound of her voice just like she was in his.

"Eric," she began, then faltering. This was hard. She was scared and uncertain, but she knew she wanted him there. She longed to feel his body pressed against hers, his arm tucked securely around her waist as she drifted off to sleep.

"Have dinner with me Thursday," he urged.

She would've said yes immediately save for the thought of missing out on time with Aubrey and leaving her in yet another place that wasn't home.

"I have Aubrey," she said, yet again wishing she could have both of them there together.

"You can go back to her after," he assured. "We can just have dinner and talk." Remembering their earlier-defined euphemism, he grinned a little. "Really talk."

"Mmhmm," she mumbled appreciatively, a little laughter escaping her. "Okay."

He smiled that boyish grin she so often drew out of him and leaned back against the counter, reveling in her playful, tired voice.

"I guess we'll talk more tomorrow at work?"

"Yeah," she agreed, aimlessly focusing on the ceiling. "I'll see you tomorrow…"

Eric hesitated a moment, just enjoying the feel of a phone call that wasn't forced or strained – a call that was about them. Hearing her sleep-laden voice and knowing she was curled up in bed both warmed him and made the ache grow tenfold. At night she used to let the hard visage she wore during the workday fade away, revealing a soft, warm Calleigh who would let him cuddle and coddle her until they fell asleep. Eric missed that. He just missed _her_.

"Cal," he uttered, her name sounding soft and treasured as it rolled off his lips. "I called to talk to you… I just wanted to hear your voice."

She smiled, feeling that distant yet familiar warmth envelope her. Sighing, she bit her lip and held the phone close to her ear. "I'm glad you called."

Knowing that was her own way of expressing the same, he smiled a little and ducked his head, simply enjoying the notion of her on the other end of the line.

She hadn't realized how relaxed by his presence she was until she'd closed her eyes and nearly dozed off while still warmed by his comfort. "I'm about to fall asleep on you," she told him, hints of amusement and innocence in her voice.

"I'll let you get back to sleep then," he said, that smile never leaving his lips. "Goodnight, Cal."

Calligh hesitated as if contemplating more, but she simply pressed her lips together and then uttered, "Goodnight."

Eric flipped his phone shut, unable to wipe the grin from his face or rid the excitement from his veins. He took the steps two at a time, for once comforted enough to look forward to falling asleep, even if it would be in an empty bed.

The tiny heap already cocooned in his blankets, however, certainly did not make for an empty bed. With an amused smile, he peeled back the covers to find Aubrey fast asleep, still practically swimming in his old, worn MDPD t-shirt.

He slipped his hands beneath her, easily scooping her into his arms and settling her against his chest. At the movement she stirred a little, waking enough to secure her arms around his neck.

"What's wrong with your bed, Princesa?" he asked softly, beginning to slowly walk down the hall.

"Yours is bigger," she murmured. Settling in with her head on his shoulder, she sighed contentedly.

Eric chuckled as he set her down in her own bed, tucking the pink sheets around her tiny frame for the second time that night. She rubbed at her tired eyes, fighting sleep.

"Your bed smells like Momma," she mumbled, eyes alight despite her obvious exhaustion. "Does she like to sleep in your bed, too?"

He couldn't help but grin, and when he laughed he hoped she took it to be at the silliness of that idea. "No, baby," he finally answered, hating that he had to blatantly lie. "Maybe we use the same soap on our sheets."

Aubrey's brows furrowed as if considering it for a moment, but the smell was too distinct – too similar to the familiar scent of her mother's faint perfume she sprayed every morning. That very scent always clung to Calleigh, and Aubrey was comforted by it whenever she buried her face in her mother's neck.

"Maybe," she agreed coyly – clearly a mannerism she'd inherited or acquired from her mother. Her eyes playfully narrowed at him suspiciously, but she was far too tired to carry on further. She was drifting off before she could say more, and Eric laughed lightly as he kissed her forehead.

When he settled into his bed alone, he realized just how obvious it was. Faint traces of her perfume lingered everywhere, from the rustling sheets to the pillows she'd rested on. Everything was so distinctly Calleigh.

She'd permeated this house so quickly and he was suddenly left wondering how they'd expected that not to happen. It was nearly impossible to keep Aubrey away from this, to deny that they were a family.

With that in mind, he breathed in deeply, the scent of her all around him. In the dusty daydreams before sleep he could almost imagine she was there and he closed his eyes, lulled to sleep easily for the first time in over seven months.


	10. Shadows and Ghosts

This is the result of there being at least 2 1/2ft of snow in my driveway. Since when do I live in Maine?! Thanks to **restless-mess** and **TexasJen** for the input & reassurance.

* * *

_That's no way to live_

_All tangled up like balls of string_

_And we woke at dawn,_

_And watched the sun glide over the hill_

"Momma!"

Calleigh was not at all used to hearing that at work, and at first she thought she'd imagined it – some figment of her imagination, a by-product of being separated from her daughter for days.

It took her a moment to look up from the release form she was signing off on, but when she did she was pleasantly surprised to find Aubrey running toward her through the empty lobby. Her wet ringlets bouncing wildly, Aubrey nearly crashed into her mother's legs with the same vigor.

"Momma, I _missed_ you," she whispered as Calleigh leaned down to encompass her tiny frame in a hug.

"I missed you, too."

Calleigh sighed as she hugged her daughter close, shutting her eyes as she simply took in her presence. Last night had been almost unbearable without them. After a night with Eric, a tangle of soft sheets, warm skin, and genuine comfort, she had wanted nothing more than to embed herself back within the perfect family life they'd had. She wanted to forget the negative, to rewind time and pick right back up before Eric started the night shift, when life had been a blur of love, stolen moments at work, and cuddling an adorable toddler to sleep each night. If not for her exhaustion and Eric's soothing voice, she never would've slept soundly with such a void.

Pulling back slightly, Calleigh watched a heart-melting grin form on her daughter's face and she smiled, tucking Aubrey's long hair behind her ear. "But this afternoon I'm picking you up from Abuela's," Calleigh told her as she hoisted Aubrey up onto her hip. "How does that sound?"

"Good." Aubrey giggled, eyes settling on her father as he caught up to them. Calleigh's gaze followed, her heart knocking hard against her chest as he came closer.

"I thought I said _no running_ here," Eric reminded Aubrey, and Calleigh had to press her lips together to keep from smiling at his attempt to be firm.

"But I saw Momma!" Aubrey said, turning to her for help. Calleigh went as straight-faced as she could and shrugged, not wanting to undermine Eric's parenting, but a smile still lingered in her features.

Eric finally met her eyes for more than a fleeting moment, unable to conceal the smile that threatened to break out into a full-force, ear-to-ear grin. "Hey," he finally managed, eyes dancing back and forth between hers and the sight of her there with Aubrey.

"Hey," she replied softly, a little coyly, and shifted under the weight of his stare.

"Sorry," he began as he retrieved a stack of papers from the secretary's desk. "I, uh, didn't know you'd be here."

"Yeah, I had to sign the release papers for Adam Gables." Her gaze flickered to the papers she'd been signing, then back to Eric. "We held him for 24 hours, but we really have nothing to tie him to the case." Adjusting Aubrey on her hip, she asked, "What are you guys doing here so early?"

"A cross-jurisdictional mess," Eric answered, only slightly irritated. "They gave that case to Monroe County, so I have to sign off for the evidence to be transported. A Monroe detective has been hounding me since five this morning."

"We're gonna go get breakfast before Daddy takes me to Abuela's," Aubrey announced, smiling excitedly at her mother. "Can you come with us?"

Calleigh wanted to more than anything, but instead she took in a steadying breath and uncomfortably met Eric's eyes. Her own ache was reflected there, and that look stole her breath for a moment. Aubrey must've noticed because she sat there, eyes dancing between both parents as though sensing something much deeper than a decision about breakfast.

"No, baby," Calleigh finally answered regretfully. "I have to work."

Disappointment immediately etched its way across Aubrey's face and Calleigh frowned, squatting as she set Aubrey down. The lie was to protect her, but Calleigh still felt guilty. Turning down the invitation felt altogether wrong, so much so that she had to strengthen her resolve before she met her daughter's pained hazel eyes.

"We'll do something special later, just you and me," she promised.

"But I like it when you _and_ Daddy are there, like for Cinderella at Abuela's," Aubrey hesitantly admitted, eyes again moving between the two of them.

The realization that Aubrey cherished those mere fifteen uncomfortable minutes they'd all spent together weeks ago hit her hard, and along with that familiar ache in her chest came the undeniable sting of tears behind her eyes. This was only getting more difficult and she had no idea where to draw the line. It was as though Aubrey could sense a change.

"Brie," Eric interjected, sensing Calleigh's internal struggle. "Momma has to work now so she can spend time with you later."

Aubrey frowned, confused by the sadness in her mother's eyes, but eventually conceded. She took Eric's hand but still focused on Calleigh, only somewhat convinced by her reassuring smile.

Calleigh kissed Aubrey's forehead, stood, and watched on as he tugged her tiny hand, reluctantly urging her away. As his gaze met Calleigh's again, he swallowed hard. Even as they walked away his eyes were on her, gaze lingering as Aubrey looked up at him and whispered, "I think Momma wanted to come."

Against his better judgment, Eric smiled and squeezed her hand gently. "Yeah, I kinda wanted her to come, too."

Aubrey grinned, skipping for a pace or two as she tried to keep up with her father's much longer stride.

Though she tried, Calleigh couldn't seem to divert her attention back to those papers. Instead she watched them, noting Aubrey's broad grin, the adorable difference in size between them, and the equally adorable way with which Eric held her hand, his shoulder sloped slightly to accommodate her.

This entire situation was wearing on her. She so badly wanted to be a part of that scene, to give in to what Aubrey so desperately wanted – what they _all_ wanted. But the closer they came, the more Aubrey pushed for more, and Calleigh knew that they were far from ready to include her in this. There were certain issues that wouldn't go away overnight – certain issues, Calleigh realized as she was again reminded of just how good he was with children, that may never go away…

Eric deserved the large family he'd always dreamed of, and after the sequence of events throughout the past two years, Calleigh wasn't sure that was something she was capable of giving him. The stress of failed attempts and a miscarriage was a burden that served as a domino in the falling pieces of their relationship.

They could fix everything else. They could find a way to work similar hours, they could spend more time together…but there was no way to magically conjure up the family they'd always wanted.

Calleigh felt as though that stress would always be there, an undercurrent in their interactions and a constant strain on their relationship. And just like before Aubrey would witness it all – the pressure, the fighting, the sadness.

She swallowed hard. All together, it was almost enough to make her want to close off again, to rethink everything. If they cut ties now and they were firm with Aubrey, they could dash all hope from her now rather than tearing it from her later.

But the minute that thought entered her mind, her already heavy heart felt further burdened and her chest ached. Every part of her seemed to know how wrong that notion was except for her mind – and those thoughts just refused go away.

* * *

Though Calleigh was alone, this corner booth was filled with memories. Early on in their relationship, this Cuban restaurant had been a welcomed fallback – their choice when reservations were missed, the perfect spot to cozy up in after a long day at work. When Eric had suggested coming here, she'd thought only of the incredible food and the comfortable, relaxed atmosphere, not the onslaught of memories that would inevitably haunt her.

- - -

_She was aware of nothing but the ghosting of his fingertips over the side of her thigh, the warmth of his body pressed against hers, and the low, gravelly words he kept murmuring into her ear. Her legs were draped over his so she was halfway in his lap already, and still she wanted to be closer._

_Feeling this gone in public was both absolutely unacceptable and utterly amazing. Everywhere she went, she was always aware of everyone and everything, but now, curled up in a corner booth with Eric, she saw nothing but him._

_And Eric was quite impressed with himself. He'd made her chuckle softly quite a few times, which, he'd quickly learned, was as close to giggling as Calleigh would get. And the tiny shiver his touch elicited as it crept beneath the fabric of her dress was not easily granted either._

_He was absolutely loving this. She'd been his friend for nine years – a close one for three – but getting to know her like this was so very enlightening. And Calleigh in this red dress was so very,_ very_ sexy. It clung to curves he'd already memorized, dipped into a tantalizingly low v down her chest, and the deep red material made her skin look even creamier in comparison._

_As if reading his thoughts, Calleigh smirked and took a sip of her sangria. "So you're finally takin' me out in the light of day," she teased, her Southern drawl driving him completely crazy._

_He laughed appreciatively, eyes following his fingertips as they slid back down her thigh to circle her perfect knee. Perfect knee? God, he was really in for it this time…_

"_You have no idea how long I've wanted to take you out, Cal," he told her softly, the honesty in his words and the intensity of his eyes as they met hers catching her off guard. "Our schedules just haven't been very conducive to proper dinners and lunch dates."_

"_Yeah." She sighed a little, not too disappointed, and smiled up at him. "I've been enjoying our late nights, though."_

"_Mmm," he mumbled appreciatively, resting his forehead against her temple. "Me too."_

_Growing more playful, he splayed his fingers wide against her skin as he glided his hand back up the side of her thigh, covering much of her skin as his fingers again slid beneath the hem of her dress. He grinned as she leaned into him more, her fingers trailing up his forearm, over the curve of his elbow, and up to gently grip his bicep._

"_And the mornings, too," he added, lips brushing her skin in what was just barely a kiss. "Can't forget the mornings."_

"_No," she agreed coyly, flashes of yesterday morning playing through her mind on loop. Warm caramel skin. Cream-colored sheets. Eric. Tangled legs. Gentle hands. Soft lips. Daylight. The slow hum of pleasure blossoming throughout her body._

_Brought back by his bold hands creeping a little too high for where they were, she smiled, halting the daring journey his hands had begun._

"_I don't wanna be out anymore," she murmured, cradling his jaw in her hands as she discreetly captured his lips with hers._

- - -

"Cal?"

Gradually, the tabletop she'd been staring at came into focus, followed shortly by Eric standing before her.

"Hey…" She smiled, forcing away the remnants of her daze as she scooted further into the corner to make room for him. "Sorry, I was just thinking."

Her nervous glance at him and her survey of their surroundings were dead giveaways, and he smiled understandingly as he slid in beside her.

"Haven't been here in a while," he noted, eyes drifting away from the still-familiar décor and back to Calleigh.

"Yeah." She looked away wistfully. "Not since before you switched to the night shift."

That little comment took them both back so quickly, reminding them of why they were really here.

Two days apart had made the ease with which they'd touched and talked dissipate, and instead a thick awkwardness settled between them. They'd fallen into each other so easily, and just as quickly they'd had to go back to the separation, the pretending.

Those few minutes with Aubrey yesterday had reminded them both of the stress of this all, of what was at stake, and that wedged anxiety and tension between them once again.

Eric watched her, taking in the flush to her cheeks and the tiredness in her eyes. Hesitantly, he rested his hand atop hers over her crossed legs, his thumb caressing her soft skin.

"How are you?" he asked, a little afraid of the answer.

"Okay," she assured softly, and she turned her hand over until their palms kissed and their fingers threaded. Smiling sadly, she met his eyes. "This is hard."

Glancing down at their hands, he let out a muffled, "Yeah," and gently squeezed her hand.

Everything had been easy and effortless in the shadows with nothing to consider, but now, in the light of day, they had to confront everything that stood between them. She bit her lip, unsure of what to say until she leaned into him and was reminded of the easy comfort his touch brought her. Releasing her hand only to settle his arms around her, he held her close and rested his head against hers, closing his eyes.

"I want to go back to how it was before," she admitted in a soft murmur against his shoulder.

Her confession surprised him, her words hitting him harder than he'd anticipated. Running his hand up and down her arm soothingly, he sighed heavily with the weight of all that had happened between them.

"Me too," he whispered back. Moving just slightly, he kissed her hair and breathed in the comforting scent of her golden locks.

"I just want to rewind back to two years ago and start over, do everything differently," she whispered hesitantly. "Maybe things would be different…"

That was so unlike the realistic, pragmatic Calleigh he knew that he recognized it for the defense mechanism it was. She wanted to go back and change everything so this wouldn't have gotten so damn hard, so that the void that had settled within them both after the miscarriage would dissipate. She had never dealt with it – had never wanted to.

"Calleigh," he let out softly, a warning. "We can't do that. We can't go back."

"I know." She sounded disappointed, less hopeful for change though no less desperate for it.

"Cal," he began carefully, considering his words. "A year ago…"

Calleigh tensed at the reminder, suddenly feeling anxiety settle in the pit of her stomach. At the prospect of discussing this she was pulling away from him, denying them both the connection they so direly needed, and nervously tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Was a year ago," she finished for him matter-of-factly. "It's in the past. If we can't change it, then…" She trailed off, shrugging and dragging a finger through the condensation on her cup. Her valiant effort at steeling herself had almost worked, but as she met his eyes he realized the sadness there, the void, couldn't be masked – not even with the defensive front she'd put up last year that had pissed him off enough to nearly fool him.

"No, we can't change it," he agreed noncommittally. "But you never dealt with it."

Behind those words was a deeper message – that he wanted her to deal with it now, wanted her to talk about it now – and the thought of that left her completely paralyzed. Air couldn't seem to fill her lungs, the lump in her throat refused to be swallowed down, and her hand stilled on the cup.

"I did deal with it," she replied evenly, though he sensed the bitter taste of that last word on her lips. They were referencing _it_ without really discussing it, dancing around pained memories as usual. "Just not the way you wanted."

He was pretty sure they both recognized that for the heady defense mechanism it was. When she dealt with things, really dealt with things, she opened a little and the hurt eased with time. After Speedle died she'd let her guard down a little, had accepted a few hugs and let a couple tears escape, and then she'd moved on. They'd shared in their grief, had exchanged emotionally charged glances, and in the end she'd reached a sort of reluctant peace much sooner than he had.

But with this, she had "dealt" with it the Calleigh way, the non-way in which she buried things so deep it took them years, if ever, to resurface. And all the while she'd kept a cool, sometimes cold, guise up to further drive the point home that she was _fine_.

Eric sighed, trying to find some gentle way to shake her awake. He knew by the look in her eyes the other night, by the look in her eyes _now_, that she was as desperate for this to work as he was. They both wanted to go back, wanted to give in to the deep affection they shared for one another and heed to the sanctity of their little family that pulled them in like gravity.

But they couldn't just go back. They needed to move forward, all things considered, and he needed her to acknowledge why she'd shut him out. He needed that faith in trust and intimacy he'd had before all fears of infertility and miscarriages had tarnished their strong bond. Loving each other was easy – always had been. Staying open and honest amid a world of hurt, however, had proven to be almost impossible.

"You went to work the next day," he softly leveled with her. "That's not dealing, Cal. That's forgetting."

Sometimes she wondered if there was a difference.

- - -

_He could hear her heels clacking against the wood in the foyer, her step heavy with impatience and regret. With the click of a lock and the drop of her keys, her footsteps slowed as she entered the living room hesitantly. They'd been walking on eggshells for weeks, ever since she'd turned off her heart and forced work to occupy her tired mind._

_She'd shut him out, letting anger take the reins whenever he tried to intervene. Emptiness and directed anger were far easier to deal with than grief, and certainly easier to control._

_Despite everything, her heart warmed at the sight of Aubrey cradled against his side, cocooned in a pink blanket and fast asleep with her fingers in her mouth. She couldn't wait to take her daughter into her arms, cradle her, and tuck her into that adorable, overly pink bed. Those few moments, which often turned into hours spent cuddled up next to a toddler in a bed that was too small even for her five-foot-three frame, were easily the most precious, the most calming, of the day. Calleigh's eyes then reluctantly drifted to Eric, who gave her the briefest glance before checking on Aubrey and then feigning interest in his book._

_Calleigh leaned into the doorframe, resting on her shoulder. "I'm home," she offered, shrugging. She had done what he wanted; it seemed like a favorable gesture, but he appeared less than impressed._

"_It's kinda late," he said simply. Putting the book down for the night – he'd barely kept his mind on it for a few pages, anyway – he pinched the bridge of his nose, praying for composure. Well, he was _really _praying for his wife to wake up and snap out of this, but that hadn't happened yet, so maintaining his own composure was his best bet._

"_You said you wished I'd get home by eight." She shrugged, trying to be compliant. She understood what he wanted, but she also understood how much it hurt to look at him and remember what they'd lost. With his welcoming arms and sympathetic eyes, he was all too willing to hold her and console her, but she was terrified to give in. If he did that, he would open up the dam of pent-up grief that threatened to give way at the smallest hint of emotion. She was afraid that once she let go, she would never be able to stop, would never get up again. After what she'd lost, losing her control would be unbearable._

_Eric scoffed, shaking his head disbelievingly. "Yeah, and you're a mere five minutes early." Standing, he slowly crossed the room to her because he knew where this was going, knew where he wanted to take it, and they definitely did not need to be in the same room as Aubrey for this discussion._

"_I'm pretty sure the family of a murdered father is thankful for those extra few hours I put in," she uttered with the slightest hint of spite. He might have felt bad, even taken back his words, had he not known that this was just part of her new defense plan. She was throwing herself into other worthy causes, fixing and healing other families while keeping hers at a distance._

"_What about our family, Cal?" he asked, taking in the way she immediately closed off and looked away. For the first time in days, he touched her, his hands on her waist and then at the small of her back as he led her from the room. Her beautiful curves should've been emphasized now with a life growing inside her, but instead she was getting smaller. As his fingertips skirted back over her side, he was surprised by the diminished softness there. "We lost a baby…"_

"_No," she insisted immediately, stepping out of range of his grasp. "We lost the prospect of a baby." She was protecting herself, he knew. Rationalizing her way out of something was the easiest way to convince herself her emotions were unwarranted and therefore easily pushed aside. Still, the words bit hard – and not just for him._

_She hated herself for those words the second they left her lips, but, as with most loss, there was no calling them back._

"_I know you don't think that way," he said assuredly._

_As always, she was both amazed and warmed by his patience. He was wonderful, but she was afraid if she opened herself up to that world of hurt then she would never come out. And what would happen when they addressed the huge question that she knew weighed heavily on both their minds – what if they couldn't have more children? _

_What if Aubrey was it for them?_

_Would this be enough?_

- - -

"You wouldn't talk to me," he continued. Shaking his head, he ran his hand through his short hair before settling his elbow back down on the table. "You pushed me away."

"It was easy," she responded wistfully, her words tinged with sadness and regret. "We were both gone all the time."

There was no sense of accusation in her voice, but he still felt the need to defend his intentions.

"You were the one who wanted me to stay on the night shift," he reminded her, his words hesitant and careful. "I was more than willing to find another job."

"I didn't want to take more from you," she whispered softly, before she realized the words were leaving her lips.

He caught the implication, along with the pained way she bit her lip, and knew immediately that she had just hinted at far more than she'd wanted to. Suddenly, he understood part of what had kept her away.

As if the miscarriage itself hadn't been enough, there was more to it than that. It had been the chaotic end to twelve long months – an entire year – of hoping for another baby, expecting one to happen just as naturally as it had the first time. Instead of alleviating their fears, though, the pregnancy had ended far too early, increasing those fears tenfold.

And it had happened amid an already rocky marriage – a marriage stressed under the weight of working opposite shifts and failed attempts to continue the larger family they'd always planned for. Aubrey had fallen in the middle of it all, swept up in a current of tension and pain.

Talking about the loss brought up _everything_ – everything she wasn't ready to confront.

She could feel the pressure of it all on her chest and in her heart, along with the need to run stirring in her veins.

"Eric," she let out, her voice strained. "I can't talk about this. I can't do this right now."

Torn between wanting to comfort her and nearly losing his patience, he placed a soothing palm at the small of her back but all that did was urge her to come undone. A few nights ago his touch had been loving and heated, but now, after bordering on acknowledging everything that had transpired between them, his touch awakened far too much within her.

He reminded her of what she ached for but wouldn't let herself have, of what she'd lost and wasn't sure she could get back. He reminded her of the baby, of Aubrey, who had been dragged through far too much already and didn't deserve to suffer the harsh repercussions of their disappointment.

"I can't, I'm sorry," she apologized, clearly wrought with memories and heartache even as she tried to keep it together on the outside. He could tell, though, as green-blue met deep brown, that she was on the brink of feeling everything she'd shut out for the past year.

She pulled away from his touch, slowly regaining some semblance of control as she distanced herself from him. Filled with the sudden urge to protect everyone involved, she took a step back from that brink and left him alone in that haunting booth, because peaceful, empty co-existence was safer than potential chaos.


	11. You Remind Me of Home

I'm vowing to update both stories more quickly from now on out. You have permission to yell at me if I don't follow through. :)

* * *

_I've got my memories_

_They're always inside of me_

_But I can't go back, back to how it was_

_I believe it now_

_I've seen too much_

_But I can't go back, back to how it was_

_Created for a place I've never known_

_~Switchfoot – "This Is Home"  
_

* * *

He wasn't sure how or why, but suddenly she was there with him. The jasmine in her hair, the vanilla on her skin…she was everywhere – tangled in his sheets, body brushing his, warmth surrounding him. Her creamy, soft skin was against his, her early morning laughter tucked into his shoulder.

She was soft, open, and unguarded like she used to be with him. No hesitance, no pulling away. Nothing save for loving caresses and whispered words.

- - -

_Calleigh practically woke up smiling. Between the ghosting of his fingertips over her ribs and the tickling of his unshaven face as he kissed her shoulder, her hairs were already standing on end at the sensations. With a slight shift, his lips were littering kisses over her neck, and as his stubble tickled the skin there that was the final straw._

_She laughed softly, drawing her palms up his arms and over his shoulders to cup the back of his head._

"_Mornin'," she mumbled into his shoulder, all sleepy and southern._

_In silent response, his hands skimmed over to grip her waist and his chin brushed against her cheek as he sought her lips. She was pleasantly surprised to find herself turning into a kiss, and she chuckled slightly again as his mouth firmly pressed against hers. Someone sure was goal-oriented this morning._

_Lips quickly melding together, legs entangling, they were lost in mere moments. Her bare calf brushed his, followed shortly by the teasing of her toes creeping upward until she'd effectively nudged a knee between his muscular legs._

_Encouraged by the brush of her tongue against his bottom lip, he eased his weight into her until she found herself gently but definitely pinned beneath him. Just before her back hit the mattress, she'd caught sight of the bedside clock glowing an angry red number she did not approve of._

_He seemed to somehow sense her realization, as his body had now shifted to purposefully trap her between himself and the mattress. Laughing, she rolled her knuckles over the back of his neck in an attempt to disrupt his single-minded quest._

"_Eric," she murmured into their kiss, and he could sense the interjection in her tone. That knowledge _may_ have had a little to do with the wandering hand beneath her tank that trailed straight up from her abdomen to slowly and just barely brush the underside of a breast. Hearing the faint hitch in her breathing, he knew that had done the trick and grinned smugly. He wanted nothing more than to get lost in her before work, to revel in the feel of love and being loved as they welcomed dawn. And to do that, he had to erase her mind of all those overly responsible thoughts she was always having…_

"_Work," she breathed out, closing her eyes for fear of falling into his own desire-laden, deep brown eyes. "We have to…" Distraction won out as he pressed his hips into hers and suckled on her ratcheting pulse point. She wracked her brain to find her priorities again. "Shower. Baby."_

"_Mmm," he mumbled at the thought of moving this little shindig under a soothing stream of hot water. "Shower. I like the way you think, but you've never called me baby before…"_

"_No." She laughed exasperatedly. "Baby. _Our _cute little baby a couple rooms down."_

_He grinned at the reminder. "She's sleepin'."_

"_But for how long?" she asked. As his fingers pushed her tank up to her ribs and his skilled lips began to place heated kisses along her abdomen, though, she was beginning to see his side here._

"_We can take the monitor in." His lips were lower now, fingers dipping below the waistband of the short girl-boxers she was wearing. "C'mon, we'll be quick…"_

"_Mmm," she let out appreciatively, voice going all low and seductive. "I hope not."_

_He chuckled, pressing one more lingering kiss to her stomach before sidling up her body. "Relatively…quick…" he whispered between chaste, teasing kisses to her lips._

_She barely had time to raise a challenging brow before he'd scooped her into his arms. By the way she practically melted into him and wrapped her legs around his waist, he knew she was giving in just like she always did. Between raising an eleven-month-old and working overtime, they'd learned to never be ones for missed opportunities._

_Before she knew it he had her – and the baby monitor – in the bathroom, the monitor on the counter, her gently pinned against the glass pane of the shower door. With one hand on her stomach and a devilish grin on his face, he reached behind her to turn the water on._

_Life was light, easy, almost effortless…_

- - -

It was perfect – too perfect to be true after yesterday – and it was just a vivid memory.

The blaring alarm clock proved him right.

Effectively yanked from pleasant dreams, Eric ran a hand down his face in an attempt to rid himself of sleep and Calleigh. Instead of reaching for her, he was slapping his alarm clock into silence. And instead of playfully coercing her into a shared shower, he was waking completely and utterly alone today.

* * *

For once, the light of day was harsh and she wanted nothing more than to curl back up under the covers in darkness. She didn't want to see him at work, didn't want to dodge heated glances and pointed stares.

She had no choice, though. She had to drop Aubrey off, had to drive to work in the bright, unwelcome sun. And with the rest of the team already tied up on a double murder case, she also had no choice but to work with him at the lab.

Holding her breath, Calleigh hesitated before the door to the layout room. Eric was inside, evidence already spread out before him. Astute eyes poring over what lay before him, he seemed to be already fully focused on the case. As she looked closer, though, she saw her own sadness and sleep deprivation mirrored in his features. He'd become nearly as good as her at hiding his pain, she realized sadly.

Sighing heavily and then taking a steadying deep breath, she prepared herself for the emotional turmoil and subsequent tension that would surely overcome her once they were in the same room. After yesterday, she knew he would back off, but the meaningful stares would now carry even more depth, even more understanding. That was more than enough to make her uncomfortable and off-kilter.

That and the fact that, save for a forty-minute restless doze, she hadn't slept at all. She'd tossed and turned, thinking about too much yet not enough. Thought after thought had invaded her vulnerable mind, but eventually she was lying there with an empty head and a numb heart, staring at the ceiling, wondering what the hell had her sleepless in the first place… Had it been their haunting conversation? Her ever-growing worries over Aubrey? Regret? Missing him?

She'd given up on sleep and crept down the hall to Aubrey's room, peeking through the cracked door – Aubrey would never let them completely close it – and seeking the peaceful image of her daughter sleeping. Slowly, the thin streak of dim hallway light spilling across the bedroom floor had grown as Calleigh pushed the door open.

Though Aubrey had been sleeping as Calleigh often did – head to the side, hand tucked beneath her chin – all Calleigh saw were Eric's pursed lips and tanned skin. She hadn't been sure if that relaxed her or made her ache more… Maybe both.

Watching the slow rise-and-fall of her daughter's easy breathing, she'd sighed heavily, both calmed and further frustrated. She'd longed for that ease of sleep, that comfort – longed to feel safe and loved and protected, longed to not view it as a weakness in herself, to have a complete disregard for vulnerability.

She'd never been easy to read or self-disclosing, but Eric had been warm, caring and just persistent and pushy enough to draw the truth out. That process has never been without setbacks, but this time was different. They'd been fine for years. This hadn't been a case of heated words after he'd pushed too far and it hadn't been her running away after things had gotten too deep. This time she'd shut off into a withdrawn emotional hibernation.

And waking up was proving to be terrifying.

Last night she had wanted nothing more than to fall into him again, and this morning she was afraid it would somehow be written all over her face. If sleepless longings could leave a mark on her, surely Eric would discover it.

Swallowing down the lump in her throat, she pushed the door open and busied herself with fastening her lab coat to avoid his eyes.

"Morning." She breezed past him, freeing her hair from the confines of the lab coat.

"Good morning," he replied, eyes on her as she began to take in the spread of evidence. A quick glance at her told him she hadn't improved much since yesterday. "How are you?" he asked, immediately kicking himself.

She met his eyes, breathing out softly as she took in his own rugged appearance. "I'm good," she said before turning back toward the evidence.

A lie. He knew it, judging by the way his eyes lingered on her tired face.

Suddenly, she realized that within the past year or so she'd also lost her best friend. He'd been persistent in somehow gracefully tearing down those walls she'd so valiantly put up. She could be "fine" to the rest of the world with a convincing smile that no one would know was forced, but with Eric she could be exhausted, or sad, or affected by a case with a simple resting of her forehead to his shoulder.

But Eric was right; she'd shut him out, taking away not only their marriage but their friendship as well.

"Ready?" he asked, sensing her distraction.

_No._ She needed a minute, or a day. Hell, maybe a week…

"Yeah." Smiling sadly, she slipped on a pair of gloves, refusing to meet his eyes. Realization was so much easier than change. "What do we have?"

"Basically," Eric began, eyes drifting to the crime scene photos on the screen, "a mess."

Dragging her gaze to the screen, she took in the multitude of numbered evidence items, the blood, the slain woman, the trashed surroundings… He was right; it was a mess.

"Twenty-six year old female gunshot victim," he began, thumbing through the file. "Found this morning in an abandoned apartment complex. Tripp said squatters and dealers have been frequenting the place for months now." He shrugged, trying to keep his focus on the case instead of the green in her eyes.

"That explains the mess," she deduced with a pointed nod toward the photos. "Are you thinking it was drug-related?"

"That's the thought right now. While we're waiting on tox results I thought I'd start going through the evidence, see if I could tie anything back to a dealer…"

"I'm in." She smiled, but barely had time to pick up a piece of evidence before the ringing of Eric's phone broke the silence.

"Delko," he answered. A puzzled look highlighted his features a moment later as he listened to Horatio. "No signs of drug use at all? Guess our theory was wrong."

With a hesitant glance toward Calleigh, he let out an, "Uh, yeah…" He swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat at Horatio's suggestion. "No, I think it's okay… Sure thing, H."

Studying him as he tucked the phone away, Calleigh furrowed her brows questioningly. "What?"

"We have to go back to the scene."

"We?" She raised a brow disbelievingly. "As in you and me?"

"Yeah, everyone's tied up, so…" he trailed off, shrugging. "Guess we're in the field again." The corners of his lips curved upward slightly in a sad smile that she hesitantly returned.

Despite how right it felt, she couldn't help but think that this was the worst possible time for them to start working in the field together again.

* * *

Thankful for a reprieve from the excruciatingly quiet car ride, Eric busied himself with reanalyzing the scene the night-shifters had already examined. This scene was a CSI's worst nightmare. The myriad of would-be evidence, mostly trash, was covered with various debris from the rundown room – broken furniture, torn wallpaper, a few scattered light fixtures, and chunks of drywall. Somehow, they needed to determine what could potentially relate to the case. He was trying to use that as a distraction, but his eyes kept wandering from debris and trash to blonde hair and deep green eyes.

Calleigh, however, was as focused as ever, and it was only because of his focus on _her_ that he knew she was onto something. Watching as she maneuvered through the debris in her heels, he rose from a squat to a stance. She was shining her light on the faded, broken couch by one wall, and a moment later she'd removed a couple stray wooden boards.

"Got something?" Eric asked, coming up behind her to shine more light her way.

"Maybe." Moving one more board aside, she could finally reach the bag she'd caught sight of. "The night shift focused on everything on top, but this isn't dusty. Everything else in here is covered in drywall dust."

"You're right." He blinked, surprised he'd missed that. Someone had gone to great lengths to mix everything together, so it was subtle – _very_ subtle – but a few things were out of place. This bag, a blanket tucked under some pillows on the bed, and a couple other items seemed newer, less worn, and definitely hidden. "Everything without dust will be more recent and could very well belong to our vic."

Calleigh nodded, stepping over a stray table leg to gain access into what had once been a kitchen. Now, though, it was riddled with broken bowls, syringes, towels, a mattress, and all kinds of trash. It took her a minute, but again, one thing stood out. On the counter, just next to the filthy sink she figured didn't run water, sat a clean baby bottle, still a fourth of the way filled with either formula or milk.

The bag hadn't meant much to her at first, but suddenly, in context, its size and shape did. Maybe it was just because she was a parent, but this was all starting to make sense.

"Eric," she called out hurriedly, already snapping a pair of gloves on to pick up the bottle. But as she walked back to him, he was already on the same wavelength as her. Hands also gloved, he'd opened the bag to discover a multitude of bottles, pacifiers, diapers, and tiny clothes.

"It's a baby bag," he confirmed softly, starting to put the scattered pieces of this case together as he thought back. "Tom had a hunch the victim had given birth fairly recently."

Brows furrowing, she met Eric's troubled eyes as she voiced the question on both their minds. "So where's the baby?"

Eric shook his head, releasing a weighted breath as he glanced around the apartment. "Hopefully not with whoever did this to the mother. That's probably why she was hiding out in a place like this."

The distinct sound of something – or some_one_ – rustling around had them both drawing their guns, holding them at the ready. Guns aimed into the other room, they waited for further sound but heard none.

"Miami Dade police," Eric called out. They both took a few careful steps forward towards the rickety bed in the next room, and he circled the corner while Calleigh covered him. "Who's there?"

"You're the police?" a tiny voice asked from beneath the bed – a child's voice.

They both retracted their weapons immediately, though Calleigh's heartbeat continued to pound. The voice sounded so shaky, so afraid…

"We're police officers," Calleigh assured softly, tucking her gun back into its holster. She met Eric's eyes briefly though intently. "My name is Calleigh. What's your name?"

"Chloe." Calleigh heard another shuffle, closer this time, then a sudden stillness she recognized as hesitation. "Can I see your badge?"

"Smart girl." Smiling, Calleigh unclipped her badge from her belt and kneeled, sliding it across the floor.

A moment later a child's hand appeared from beneath the bed, followed closely by a head full of chestnut brown curls. Chloe touched the badge, hesitant to accept safety, and inspected it for a moment before checking out Eric and Calleigh.

"That's my friend Eric," Calleigh said, swallowing hard as her eyes locked with his for a brief moment. Understatement of the year. "He's nice, I promise."

Chloe's blue eyes settled on Eric, taking in his kind, concerned face.

"Mommy told me, if Daddy came, to take my brother and run, but not really run because it would hurt him," she began to explain, her words a rushed mess of syllables. "He came and I did… I hid in the woods like in hide and seek, but Mommy never came."

Her eyes watered and Eric gently touched her shoulder, which was all it took for her to lean into his leg and hold on for dear life. She was around Aubrey's age, and that realization only made his heart ache more.

"Where's your brother now?" he asked her softly, squatting down to rub her back soothingly. Her tears kept her from speaking, but she managed to point under the bed.

Calleigh crawled forward, carefully pulling out a small carrier from beneath the bed. Inside, tucked beneath a blue fleece blanket, was a tiny baby boy, no more than six months old though much quieter than a baby of that age.

"I tried to take care of him like Mommy does," Chloe choked out. "But he needs bottles and diapers."

Lifting her into his arms, Eric cradled her against his chest. "You did a good job, sweetheart," Eric assured, cupping the back of her head as she hugged him tightly.

Though his attention was focused on her, he couldn't help but watch as Calleigh lifted the baby from the carrier to make sure he was okay. She spoke in soothing, hushed whispers as the baby fussed a little, and even after Aubrey Eric was still awed by the delicate, natural way she held the baby's head in her palm and cradled him against her chest.

Taking in a shaky breath, Eric sighed. This was like a car crash; he knew watching would only pain him, but there was absolutely no way he could look away. Not now, when she was making the baby smile despite its likely dehydration. On top of the already heavy nature of the case, Eric was hit with the realization that this would've been them. If everything had worked out, if their attempts had been successful, if they hadn't lost the baby…

Calleigh was fighting a similar realization as she desperately tried to focus on the case. They needed to check birth certificates, get the father's name, run his plates, track him down… But as Calleigh dug out her phone to call for EMTs, social services, and back-up, the baby's tiny hand reached up to her. Eyeing her delicate, shiny necklace, he waved his hand around before finally splaying his fingers against her chest over the jewelry.

That soft, innocent touch was all it took to send her back into _what could have been_ and she had to blink back tears as she spoke to Horatio on the phone. With a steadying breath, she calmed herself, reining in her emotions as she began to search the baby bag for anything to make him more comfortable.

She could feel Eric's eyes on her, could almost feel the memories and hopes dancing around the both of them. Purposely avoiding his gaze, she smiled as the baby again reached for her, though Eric got the feeling her heart was swelling and breaking all at once.

And when she finally met his eyes with a sad, wistful smile, he knew he was right.

* * *

As Eric quietly pushed the locker room door open, he could feel the weight of the day wearing on him. Judging by the loss of spring in her step and the sadness that had clung to her features all day, Calleigh was feeling it, too. He'd watched her enter the locker room twenty minutes ago, likely getting ready to leave, but she had yet to come back out. He didn't want to push her too much, and he definitely didn't want to patronize her about this, but he was worried. It was clear this case had rocked her beyond the normal magnitude of a tragic case.

They were parents, and the child today had been so close in age to Aubrey. It was hard not to torment themselves by putting Aubrey in Chloe's place. To imagine Aubrey seeing and enduring the things Chloe had with an abusive father was, well…unimaginable. Every time Eric's mind went there, his heart stopped him.

And that baby… He was pretty sure Calleigh had barely _looked _at a baby over the past year, let alone held, comforted, and cared for one.

When he rounded the corner, she was standing before her locker, aimlessly unwrapping and rewrapping the strap of her holster as her eyes remained glued ahead.

Calleigh had never been one for photos and keepsakes tucked away in her locker, but Aubrey had been the exception. The 3x5 pinned to the back of her locker had been too cute to resist – Aubrey, all cinnamon blonde hair and eyes more green than brown in the sun, a classic Eric grin on her face as she held a friend's new puppy up to her cheek.

The photo reminded her of both Eric and Aubrey, reminded her that even after a frustrating or downright tragic day there was some genuine, untouched good in the world.

Days like this, though, it also made her ache that some children weren't as untouched.

The sound of someone coming snapped her out of her deep freeze and jumpstarted her actions again. She placed the holster on the shelf, tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and removed her purse from a hook. When she felt his eyes on her, her actions slowed until she was nearly holding her breath as she slid an arm through the loops on her purse.

He approached slowly, stopping a safe distance away.

"Hey…" His voice stilled her, soothed her, and she had no choice but to meet his eyes.

"Hey."

"Heading to pick up Brie?"

"I wish," she admitted, the corners of her lips curving up just slightly, albeit sadly. "Not 'til six. Apparently she really likes going to that quilt club thing with your mom."

Despite the mood, Eric chuckled a little. "That's because they all bring her presents and feed her cookies."

"Oh." Calleigh nodded, attempting a smile. "That would explain it."

She reached for the door of her locker, but paused again, eyes lingering on that photo once more. This time, though, she wasn't the only one looking.

Between thinking of the case and innocence and Aubrey, she could _not_ steer her thoughts from her family, from that baby, from what had happened last year… Today, as she worked a difficult case with Eric and held a tiny baby against her, she realized exactly what she'd lost. With it laid out in front of her all day, there was no tucking it into the back of her mind, no time to harden her heart.

Mostly, she just didn't want to do any of that anymore. Eyes watering, she eased the door closed until it clicked softly.

"Calleigh…"

Lifting her eyes to his, she kept a hand on her locker to steady herself as he stepped forward. Gazes still locked, he gently tucked fallen strands of hair back behind her ear, fingertips grazing the shell of her ear and then drawing through her hair until he'd cupped the back of her head.

After the way her eyes softened on him, he wasn't even altogether surprised when she laid a hand on his side, tugging on his shirt to pull him close. His free arm wrapped around her and she buried her face into the crook of his neck, breathing in deeply. Hand still tangled in her blonde locks, he simply held her against him gently, reveling in her long overdue reprieve.

She released a shaky breath, struggling for control, and he knew she would only let her guard down so much at work. Lips brushing her temple, he whispered, "Can I take you home?"

Closing her eyes, she sighed and turned her head to rest her forehead against his chest.

"Okay."


	12. We Break and We Bend

_Belief over misery_

_I've seen the enemy_

_And I won't go back, back to how it was_

_And I've got my heart set on what happens next_

_I've got my eyes wide, it's not over yet_

_We are miracles and we're not alone_

_~Switchfoot – "This Is Home"_

_

* * *

_

Being back here was strange. Everything was both entirely different and completely the same. With traces of the three of them everywhere, it felt like home to him even after seven months. Still, though, the house seemed to acknowledge his absence with a certain tainted ambiance. He almost didn't feel like he should be here and yet he didn't feel he belonged anywhere else. Minus a few rearrangements and changes in décor, this place held the essence of home, of shared memories and a life together.

New, however, was the uncomfortable openness in her eyes as she stared at him from across the foyer. She swallowed visibly, pressed her lips together, and tossed her keys into the bowl with a noisy clang.

"So," Calleigh began, drawing his eyes to hers, "they're with social services?"

"Yeah." Not knowing what to do with himself, he drove his hands deep into his pockets and forced himself to keep them there instead of everywhere. "They have an aunt on the mother's side coming for them. She already has two kids, so they should fit right in with the family."

He'd checked in on the situation. Of course he had, she realized with a melancholy curving up of the corners of her lips.

"Good." Her eyes sparkled as they met his. She took a step forward, an invitation he not only accepted but also mirrored.

As he moved, she caught sight of one of the photos on the table: a black and white of a tiny baby Aubrey fresh from the bath, wrapped in one of those adorable towels with bear ears on the hood. She smiled wistfully, stepping forward slightly to touch the corner of the frame.

"I forgot what it was like."

Eric couldn't suppress the urge to comfort her if he tried, not even after her firm insistence to keep him shut out the other day. Hands delicately gliding over her hips, he held her sides. "Until today?"

"Yeah." Her mouth tightened as she admired the photo as though seeing it in a new light. She was quiet, defeated, giving up – in the good way. She was giving up on defense mechanisms and protective walls, whomever they were built for, and giving in to what they'd both so desperately needed a year ago. She'd not only denied her hurt, but his as well, and she'd vehemently ignored his need to comfort her, to just be there for her.

Feeling emotion swell within her, she placed her hands on his forearms, knowing that his nearness after this day would trigger an emotional release she wasn't altogether prepared to deal with. It was coming, though, and here, in the light of day, in this house that used to be a home, she felt too uncomfortable; it felt too forced. He could practically feel the tension in her body and the last thing he wanted to do was push so hard she ran again, so he eased up slightly, hands only lightly touching her.

"Still need to shower?" he asked, recalling her earlier remark about drywall dust everywhere though knowing what she truly wanted to wash away was much further below the surface. "I can wait, or…" _Go?_ He didn't really want to go, and she didn't have a car anyway.

"Yeah, I still feel like I'm covered in dust." It was an excuse, he knew – a reason to slip into the shower, where the truth was surreal and where tears could be disguised as they mixed with water droplets.

Her palms grazed his forearms as she slid her hands down to cover his at her waist. Fingers filling the spaces between his, Calleigh urged their hands away from her sides, and at the unsure smile on her face he turned his hands in hers until their palms kissed.

With the ease that had brought them together several nights ago, they simply stood there – her eyes on their joined hands, his eyes on her. She took a slight step back towards the stairs and tugged gently on his hands; he thought he imagined it. But her fingers closed tighter around his, pulling him with her, and it took him a moment to realize she wasn't running at all. She wanted him to come with her.

And she didn't have to ask twice. Silently, Eric let her pull him to the stairs, let her lead him up them and down the hallway, and let her guide him across her – _their_ bedroom into the bathroom. As the room filled with steam he drew her close, taking in the sadness that still clung to her eyes. He cradled her face in his hands and rested his head against hers, lips brushing just under her eye in a delicate kiss.

The intimate contact had her taking in a steadying breath and placing her palms on his abdomen. She closed her eyes, his touch shutting off all thought until all she registered was the feel of his hands on her, the softness of his lips grazing over the bridge of her nose, and the growing ache in her chest. She needed to be in the shower – needed the burn of too-hot water against her body, needed his skin against hers as they tried to rid themselves of the grief that had pervaded their relationship for far too long.

Hands gliding to the bottom of his shirt, Calleigh began slipping buttons through until she could slide the material off his shoulders. Tugging on his undershirt, she pulled him impossibly closer, his forehead coming to rest against hers as his hands skated over her shoulders. His fingers danced over her curves until he'd reached the edge of her white blouse, lifting it from her body with a certain delicateness she'd never seen him use – a delicateness she'd never _allowed_ him to use, at least not on her. Because she'd thought she'd feel weak and patronized and judged. She'd thought people, even him, would reduce her to what anyone in her position might experience, and in her mind she had simply not been anyone. It was elitist and, in retrospect, ridiculous, but she was a cop and somewhat of a scientist. She knew why the body did what it did; she knew that something had been wrong, her body had taken care of it, and that it hadn't been her fault.

Still, a mere day later, her hormone-driven emotions and her grief-stricken heart had allowed doubt to creep in. What if they hadn't been so stressed from working opposite shifts? What if they hadn't been fighting because they rarely got to see each other? What if she'd slowed down like Eric wanted her to?

She could've played the 'What if…?' game night and day, so instead she'd shut off and shut him out. Now she realized she'd severely underestimated him, maybe as a defense mechanism. She should've known that after so long Eric would expect nothing and anticipate everything when it came to her.

He would've been patient when she needed it, and then not at all when he would need to push her to feel. They probably would have fought, but it would've been okay because at least fighting meant that he was in, that he was close to the emotions stirring within her. Instead, though, she hadn't let him in at all.

Calleigh blinked, eyelashes fluttering against his skin, and focused on the warmth of his hands at the small of her back. He was real and here and this was _comforting_, wonderfully suffocating in a way that drew all feeling from her – his hands on her, skin-against-skin, his warm eyes an emotional trigger like always.

He pulled back only to peel his thin tank off his body, hands immediately returning to her small waist. With her palm pressed to his abdomen, her eyes reverently followed her hand as she trailed it up his torso and let it settle at the center of his chest. She hadn't meant to seek out his heartbeat, but it resonated throughout his chest, pounding with both heartache and reprieve.

Tucking her close again, he lowered his head into the crook of her neck and breathed her in. As her hands cradled the back of his head, fingers raking through his short hair, he pressed a loving kiss to her skin where collarbone met shoulder. He heard her take in a shaky breath and knew she was trying to steel herself.

"Cal," he uttered, thinking only of her tear-filled eyes as she held the baby at the crime scene today. And when he pulled back to look at her they were there again: green eyes glossed over with tears she was too proud and controlled to let escape. But here, in her refuge, he hoped she wouldn't be.

With a new urgency, they discarded clothes and reservations, his strong hands guiding her through the shower door. Beneath the spray of hot water she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, the water drenching and cleansing them both for a few minutes before she let him urge her towards the back wall.

She stood there, forehead pressed to his chest as he wiped away the long strands of wet blonde hair clinging to her body. Finally, his hands settled on her bare sides, waiting, reveling in the washing away of secrets and grief. One tear finally overflowed from her lids, followed quickly by another, but with her face tucked against his skin and water all around them he was none the wiser.

"I should've slowed down," she admitted, breaking the silence. "We were stressed and fighting, and I was working too much… I should've slowed down."

"No." The firm insistence in his voice surprised her and assured her of what she already knew. "You know that wouldn't change anything," he whispered with both relief and regret.

She knew. Logically, she knew, but even that didn't keep regret and guilt away.

Swallowing hard, Calleigh ran her palms down his slick skin, settling her hands on his abdomen. Fingers delving into her hair, he cradled her head in his hand and her eyes met his again. The patience and love tainted with grief she found there brought her back to when she'd avoided his eyes for those very reasons. He was so patient and warm and loving, all qualities she sometimes lost amid stress. And the grief had been the worst… Every time she had looked at him, she'd remembered.

"After," she cautiously began, "I didn't know what to do, so I worked." She focused aimlessly on the water droplets skittering down his chest, in awe of finally voicing the thoughts that had plagued her for so long. "I couldn't look at you without thinking about what we didn't have, what we might never have... We always wanted more kids and I know it's ridiculous, but somehow, after all that time, that felt like losing our only shot."

He caught the undercurrent of guilt there and held her face, her hands settling over his at her cheeks. His own heart wrenched at her words, at the realization of part of why she'd been so distant.

"Calleigh," he whispered softly, drawing her eyes to his when he rested his forehead against hers. "All I ever wanted was a life with you."

A few more tears that were soon guised by the water washed over her cheeks, but he'd seen them spill from her red-rimmed eyes. Tilting her chin upward, he pressed his lips to hers in a silent promise. There was no insistence in his kiss – just heated, ardent assurance that he was okay, that _they_ were okay with this.

Lips parting, they remained there, noses touching, his hands on her, the shower wall growing cold against her back. Eyes closing as his hands drew over her sides, she spoke against his lips. "So if Aubrey's it…"

"She's more than enough," he finished for her, kissing the corner of her mouth. "You and Brie are my life. I'd love more kids, but I don't need them." Cupping the back of her head in his hands, he let his thumb smooth over the wet skin on her neck and behind her ear. "I just need you and Brie. I need you like this, open and honest."

Calleigh nodded, meeting his brown eyes in a silent promise of her own. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she stood on the tips of her toes to bring herself almost close enough to bury her face in the crook of his neck. The feel of holding a baby in her arms still haunted her, and for the first time she let Eric share in that grief with her. Instead of running from the thought of what they'd lost, she simply gripped him tighter and watched as her tears mixed with the water running down his chest.

"I'm sorry, Cal," he uttered softly, and her fingers slid up to graze through his short hair. A moment later she untucked her head from beneath his to capture his lips with hers, seeking relief and giving into the comfort she'd needed for far too long.

As she parted her lips and drew him closer, he tasted both grief and healing, both familiarity and new beginnings.

* * *

While Calleigh moved about quickly, Eric kept an eye on her from his vantage point behind her at the mirror. Though she was now dressed and looking somewhat brighter, her face still harbored traces of tears and lingering hurt. Her body still seemed oddly delicate as she leaned closer to the mirror, covering reddened skin with a base of foundation and lighting up her saddened eyes with a coat of mascara to her lashes. He had no idea how much she'd cried and he was pretty sure she wanted it that way, but he couldn't help but pay close attention to the indicators.

It wasn't that he expected her to break or even falter; he knew her better than that. This was Calleigh, after all, and she was notorious for pulling herself together all too quickly. Instead, his eyes followed her with a certain watchful admiration, alight with the new knowledge that she was open and comforted. And that meant that maybe – just maybe – today she would seek to have his warm arms around her again after this day, after this year…

Besides that, though, as he towel-dried his short hair he was just marveling at the way she moved. Even when rushed, she was never _in_ a rush. She was always graceful, her moves calculated and determined as she placed her make-up back just so.

She ran a hand through her damp, naturally wavy hair, a sad smile gracing her lips as she met his eyes in the mirror. "You're staring."

"I'm admiring." The slightest hint of that adorable smirk of his made its way across his features and she turned, resting her back against the counter as she watched him throw his towel over the rack.

Eric closed the distance between them with a few steps, easing down a bit closer to her height. He was completely enamored by the way she wrapped her arms around him, wove her fingers together at the base of his neck, and pressed up onto the balls of her toes to brush her lips against his. It was soft, appreciative, and far too short, for a moment later she was lowering her forehead to his chest and mumbling, "I have to get Aubrey."

"Yeah…" He couldn't have masked his disappointment if he'd tried. Regardless, he did, because this was what they'd agreed upon and this was Calleigh's night with her.

Calleigh saw right through it, though, and she tilted her head sympathetically. If he felt anything like she did after today – and she knew he did – then he would want nothing more than to spend time with Aubrey, to surround her with a safe, loving environment to make up for all the bad they'd witnessed today.

"You want to be with her." It was a statement uttered knowingly, not a question.

He smiled sadly in response, tucking her hair behind her ear. "It's your night."

Pressing her lips together, she rolled them as she considered something she was almost positive they weren't quite ready for. But she wanted it, and she simply didn't have the heart to deny him quality time with their daughter after a day like today.

"Could be our night." She shrugged, biting her lip as her eyes engaged his. "But you can't do that," she pointed out, nodding toward his hand at her hip.

"Hmm." Fingers delving into her soft, damp hair, he guided her mouth back to his and kissed her just deeply enough to tempt her. "How 'bout that?"

She smiled wistfully, more than a little regret in her eyes. "Definitely not that."

Eric wanted nothing more than to pick Aubrey up together, come back here, and eat dinner as a family, but it was too soon for both of them. And it would insinuate far too much to Aubrey; it would set free too many memories of parents and home and family. His new house would be much safer, less haunting. "Why don't you two come over and I'll cook you dinner?"

At her hesitance, he took one of her hands in his and squeezed gently. "When I promised you we'd keep her out of this, I meant it," he told her with a certain intense protectiveness that didn't surprise her at all. More playfully, he added, "I'll be good, Cal."

When she breathed out lightly and her shoulders relaxed a bit, he knew he had her. She smiled a little, meeting eyes his with a bit of disbelief. They were really doing this – spending time with her, together but not in her eyes. It was both exciting and disheartening.

She pressed their palms together, holding them up and spreading her fingers to fill the spaces between his. "I need my car," she told him, eyes sparkling with nervous anticipation.

Smiling, he tugged at her hands to urge her forward. "I'll drive you back."


	13. In Sweet Disarray

_If we could see that this was all that we need_

_Inside our minds, bodies, and souls_

_We wouldn't run and we would let go_

'_Cause we'd realize that we had,_

_That we had no control_

_~Katie Gray – "Set Free"  
_

* * *

Two car rides later, Calleigh found herself in Eric's mother's living room, certain that Clorinda could see right through her.

It wasn't that she could, exactly, but Clorinda could tell there was something different about the woman she still absolutely considered her daughter-in-law. Calleigh was guarded and had never been easy to read, but when she met Clorinda's eyes today and smiled just slightly, Clorinda had detected a change. Calleigh didn't seem thoroughly happy and stress-free yet, but something about her eyes was a little more…honest maybe, Clorinda decided. She was just a bit less guarded, less hidden behind convincing smiles and cheerful words.

And, judging by the way her brows furrowed meaningfully as she hugged Aubrey tight, she was even happier than usual to be picking up her daughter.

"Rough day?" Clorinda asked, watching as Calleigh lovingly tucked a runaway lock of cinnamon blonde hair behind Aubrey's ear.

"It was open-and-shut once we got the facts straight and we were off earlier than usual…" she trailed off, eyes holding a certain heaviness. "But yeah, it was a rough case."

When her gaze settled back on Aubrey with such reverence, Clorinda knew. Kids. Those were the cases that never ceased to drive Eric to the edge of his limits.

"Mama!" Aubrey began bouncing up onto the tips of her toes as she tugged at the belt loops of Calleigh's jeans. "Where are your work clothes?"

"I didn't come from work, Brie. I was at home waiting on _you_ for once." Calleigh smiled, playfully tugging her daughter's ponytail as Aubrey grinned. "Ready to go?"

Nodding enthusiastically, Aubrey dragged her bag on the floor behind her by a single strap as she headed for the door. Calleigh rolled her eyes before she met Clorinda's. "Thank you."

"Always my pleasure," Clorinda assured. She pulled Calleigh into a hug, and she wasn't sure if it was just her au natural, shower fresh appearance, but she realized Calleigh looked a bit refreshed as well. Whatever the cause, it eased her worries a little.

Aubrey was already halfway down the walkway when Calleigh started after her, but longer strides made for quick catching up. She scooped up Aubrey's already hopelessly scuffed bag and opened the door to the SUV. As she double-checked the booster seat buckles Aubrey insisted on securing and made her way around to the driver's seat, Calleigh was wondering how she was going to dodge this bullet.

They were about to give their daughter what she'd been practically begging for over the past seven or eight months, and Calleigh knew it would be exciting, hope-instilling, and maybe a little overwhelming for Aubrey.

"So," Calleigh began, sliding her shades over her eyes and shifting the gear into drive. "Daddy wants us to come over for dinner."

Aubrey was far too trusting to disbelieve it, but still, when her mother directed the car right instead of left at the first stop sign, her excitement grew. "Really? With Daddy?"

Calleigh laughed. "Well, I don't think he wants us to eat in his house all by ourselves…" She couldn't deny that the huge grin in her rearview mirror thrilled her just as much as it unnerved her.

But a moment later Aubrey sucked in a deep breath, far too contemplatively for a four year old. "Are you sure Daddy wants you to come?" she asked, as though she might get in trouble for showing up there with her mother. "Because you don't come to Daddy's…"

Calleigh had to take in a steadying breath of her own. If anything, they'd been _too_ good at this – her in one house, Eric in another, never the two shall meet… And now they were about to send that world they'd so carefully constructed into total disarray.

"He wants us both to come."

"Really?" Her eyes were hopeful but skeptical.

"Really." At a long light, Calleigh reached back to playfully tug on Aubrey's tiny toes. She turned, tucking her sunglasses atop her head to meet her daughter's eyes, and smiled. "I promise."

Aubrey merely grinned, but by the time they'd pulled into Eric's driveway she was nearly uncontainable. Calleigh had just barely put the car into park when she heard the sound of buckles unlocking and things shuffling. Trying to keep up, she slid out of the driver's seat and opened one of the back doors just in time for Aubrey to hop out.

She probably would've bounded right through the door, but Calleigh held her back, feeling more comfortable with ringing the doorbell instead. This was his house, after all.

In the short few moments they had to wait, nerves had the chance to settle in the pit of her stomach. Though the circumstances hadn't been planned, the visit had, and this was the first time they'd all purposely been together in almost eight months. This was undeniably what she wanted, but her practicality had won out until today.

For the first time, she acknowledged that it all might be worth the risk when she saw Eric staring back at them through the doorway, his smile almost mirroring that of their excited daughter. And for Eric, it was just as powerful to see them both on his doorstep, Aubrey practically a mini-Calleigh with darker eyes, skin, and hair.

"Daddy!" Aubrey practically jumped into his arms, her tiny arms around his neck before he'd even secured her in his embrace.

"Hey, Princess." Tucking her against his side, he held the door for Calleigh, his awe-filled eyes on her as they searched for an appropriate greeting. This not touching thing was even harder than he'd imagined.

"Hey…" he finally managed as she stepped into the hall.

"Hey," she echoed, standing, staring. Their eyes never wavered, not until Calleigh realized Aubrey was looking between the two of them. She cleared her throat and straightened. "It smells amazing in here."

"That's the chicken." Effectively snapped out of his daze, Eric smiled and looked towards the kitchen. "I need to go stir the sauce."

"I wanna draw pictures," Brie said, poking Eric expectantly just when he was about to tend to the food.

"Here, I can stir," Calleigh offered, and it was amazing how easily they fell back into this, amazing how simple it was. Even more incredible was _her_ being the one to falter and touch his arm affectionately when she'd been so concerned about _him_ being good.

Biting her lip in silent reprimand, she retreated to the kitchen and busied herself, leaving Eric stunned but smirking. He simply shifted Aubrey higher onto his side and went into the living room in search of coloring materials.

Aubrey pursed her lips in pure Calleigh fashion, seemingly sizing him up, and Eric wished he could say he was surprised with what tumbled off her lips next.

"I thought maybe Mama wasn't supposed to come here, but you seem _really_ happy about it."

Eric chuckled as he took everything from their coloring stash, plus a few books, and spoke quietly as they headed back down the hall. "Have I ever told you you're a very, very smart girl?"

"Uh huh." She nodded, not quite understanding the implication. "Lots."

He set her up at the kitchen table, an array of coloring books, regular books, pencils, crayons, and paper spread out before her. Calleigh's eyes kept flickering over, and once Brie was settled Eric cautiously returned to the stove.

Regardless of the complicated situation, it was amazing to see her like this again, to be delegating responsibilities and working together to take care of Aubrey. It was something that came so naturally when they let it.

He was staring again, and she was smiling as she stirred.

"Doing okay?"

She knew he didn't mean the food, but she focused on it anyway. "Yeah."

As he came up behind her, his hand discreetly settled at the small of her back, delicately smoothing over her light purple top to press into her skin while he took his place back. She met his eyes – a warning – and he raised his brows challengingly in response.

"That was…a perfectly friendly gesture," she argued softly. Pushing a few errant strands of wavy hair behind her ear, she glanced at Aubrey to be assured she was occupied and not witnessing any slip-ups.

"And mine wasn't?" He raised a brow again.

No. His made her want to lean further into his touch and let his warmth surround her again. She sighed, hands settling on her hips playfully as she reluctantly gave in and called truce.

"So can I help with anything?" she asked, stepping forward again.

"No, I'm good." Smile still etched across his face, he secured a lid over the skillet and fixed his eyes back on her. "_I'm_ making dinner for _you_, remember? Just relax and spend some time with her."

Calleigh was quickly realizing that tonight was as much about him taking care of _both_ of them as it was them spending time with Aubrey. She might have resented that a little under normal circumstances, but it had been so long and his eyes were so genuinely caring that she could only stare back at him with a certain meaningful gleam in her eyes. For a moment she thought of the shower, of whispered truth and heated promises.

His knuckles brushed her side, imploring her to go relax, and instead of chastising him like she knew she should've, her lips simply curved upward a little. She turned to finally go, a pair of curious eyes now dancing between the both of them. Aubrey seemed to have witnessed everything – the banter, the tenderness – and had no idea what to make of it.

For once, though, her perceptiveness lost out to pure, innocent enthusiasm, and instead of trying to figure out what had just transpired in that kitchen, she instead scrambled for her piece of paper. Collecting her legs up under herself, she popped up to stand on the chair and proudly held the paper out to Calleigh.

"Look at my shark!"

"Wow, good job!" Calleigh praised, taking in the huge blob of a "shark" complete with some jagged shapes at the front she took to be teeth. "You even drew his scary teeth."

Aubrey grinned, seemingly unable to contain her restless energy as she bounced on the chair.

Calleigh stabilized the back of the chair and eyed her. "Have you forgotten what chairs are for?"

With wide hazel eyes, Brie clamped her lips together as though she'd forgotten safety rule number one and looked down. "Sitting! Can you sit with me?"

"Of course."

Eric watched them with awe as Aubrey practically leapt into Calleigh's arms, and he realized with a bit of amusement that she was getting a little big for her mother's small frame. Calleigh seemed to handle her just fine, though, and she held Aubrey on her hip while she sat down Indian-style, Aubrey then fitting perfectly in her lap.

As if settling into a perfected rhythm – one he hadn't been privy to – Calleigh wrapped her arms around Aubrey's middle, whispered into her ear, and watched on as she chose a book to slide closer for them to read. Aubrey flipped open to the title page and her eyes flickered to his for just a moment, taking in the admiration in his eyes and the way his lips curved upward with hers.

She read over the title page, but instead tilted her head back to look up at Calleigh. "I like you here with me and Daddy."

Smiling, Calleigh cradled her daughter's head in her hands and kissed her forehead from upside down. When Aubrey turned her attention back to the book, Calleigh sighed, both with weight and contentment, and affectionately rested her head atop Aubrey's.

Her eyes met Eric's, finally feeling the magnitude of this moment as she took in the raw emotion and awe in his brown eyes. She simply breathed in and held his gaze, speaking without words, and knew without a doubt he hadn't taken his eyes off them at all.

* * *

The flickering of the television provided the only source of the light in the dark living room. Calleigh watched it dance across his face, highlighting his skin with blues and oranges as he drank in her tired eyes. She felt relaxed, more so than she had in a while, and she knew that was due in large part to the exquisite kneading of his fingers into the back of her neck.

It had started long ago as a hidden caress, when Aubrey was still awake and between them on the couch, and had spiraled from there. He'd rested his arm along the back of the couch, let his fingers glide over her shoulder, up her neck, and into her hair. She'd turned, met his eyes, and leaned into his touch a little. He'd massaged the base of her neck just a bit, his touch casual and light in case Aubrey turned around.

But then Aubrey had crawled into Calleigh's lap and fallen asleep against her chest, and their covert operation had gone out the window. He'd moved closer, had let his thumb and forefinger spread to massage her shoulders a little, and he'd occasionally let his fingers run through her hair before moving it aside. She'd given up diverting her focus and instead rested her head to the side along the cushion, eyes on him as he soothed the tension away – sometimes so much her eyes closed for a moment or two.

Now, her lids were heavy as she stared back at him. He brushed his fingers over the top of her spine once more, then coasted them over her shoulder and collarbone.

His eyes left hers only to take in Aubrey's near-identical face beneath hers. Smiling, he whispered, "She looks just like you."

A smile graced her lips. "Except she's not translucent."

"Neither are you." He chuckled a little, hand trailing over creamy skin, down her arm, and to her fingertips. "I love your skin." Weaving their fingers together, he kissed the back of her hand.

He watched her carefully; she was smiling and relaxed, but her eyes still held the wear of the day and the memories it had stirred.

"Can she just stay here tonight?" Calleigh asked, fingers smoothing over Aubrey's hair and down her back. "It'll be easier on her."

"Yeah, of course."

"Brie," she whispered, just barely stirring her awake. With a delicate touch, she brushed long strands of hair away from her daughter's face. "You can stay here with Daddy tonight so you don't have to get up, okay?"

Anything involving remaining asleep sounded good to Aubrey, so she nodded sleepily, turning her face to bury it into the crook of Calleigh's neck. It wasn't long before her breathing settled again and she fell back into a comfortable, easy sleep.

"She missed you," Eric noted, the smile that etched its way across his lips tinged with regret.

"I missed her."

It was a lost cause, but… "You could stay, too, you know."

She met his eyes in a silent, playful though meaningful reprimand, almost more for tempting her than for the mere invitation. "You know I can't."

Settling a supportive arm beneath Aubrey's legs, Calleigh kept her small body cradled against her own while she stood. With the same ease, she laid her down on the couch for now and adjusted the throw blanket to cover her shoulders.

"Goodnight," she uttered softly, lowering her lips to her daughter's forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Eric followed Calleigh into the hallway, one hand gracing the small of her back when they were out of sight. "I could sleep on the couch," he offered, the mischievous curving of his lips revealing he knew exactly what she did.

"Really?" She raised a curious brow and folded her arms over her chest, a beautiful smirk on her lips. "I'd love to see that happen."

"Well," he began, hands moving to her hips as he glanced down the hall. Urging her further from Aubrey's potential line of sight, he pressed her against the wall just beside the stairs. "From four to six, at least."

She laughed softly, but when her eyes lifted to his they were more serious, communicating what they both knew. "It would be too confusing, and what if she comes running in during the middle of the night?"

"I know." And he did, but he'd also spent the evening in close proximity to her without actually being close to her. They'd been dancing around it all evening, and now her warm body was so close to his, the familiar scent of her shampoo reawakening his senses.

He rested his temple against hers, reveling in the feel of her soft hair against his skin, the contours of her curves beneath his palm. She lifted her hands then and pressed them to his cheeks, slowly drawing his lips to hers. The kiss was brief, poignant, but when the pressure eased, he ducked his head in further and coerced her into another.

Earlier, their lips had met in promises and comfort, but now that some of the walls between them had been broken down, his mouth was heated against hers, his kisses loaded with the threat of temptation. The love, tension, and ease that had brought them together here just nights ago were now imbued by desperation after the day's events.

Her rationale behind remaining apart had been buried so easily beneath such desperation that she found herself needing a reminder.

"We're keeping her out of this for now," she mumbled against his lips, though so unsurely it was almost a question.

"I know," he repeated. He was serious, but as his lips skimmed just below her mouth and pressed against her skin in a series of kisses to her jaw, he grinned. "That's why she's here now."

Though she was smiling, she pursed her lips indignantly, a complete contradiction to the loving way with which her fingers were delving into his short hair. Backtracking, she opened her mouth to speak, but nothing save for a barely audible sigh escaped.

"This was…an exception," she tried, speaking decidedly as though to convince herself as much as him. "It was a rough day."

He chuckled, the tickle of his warm breath raising goosebumps along her skin. "Gonna be a rough night, too."

Calleigh laughed a little, but then his lips delicately pressed into the skin just below her ear and suddenly she couldn't have agreed more. Closing her eyes, she indulged him – okay, and herself, too – for a moment, acquiescing under his ministrations and turning her head to the side

"Eric," she warned as her eyes fluttered open. Immediately taking in the flickering of the television against the living room walls, she was reminded of who was just around the corner: Aubrey, who absolutely could not see them like _this_. "I should-"

She stopped short, halted by the feel of his arms wrapping around her body in a simple hug. He'd drawn her close, so close that her heels had actually lifted off the floor so her torso pressed against his. She felt cradled and cuddled, like something he'd hold close at night to chase his bad day away and lull him to sleep. Sighing contentedly, she realized that might be exactly what he needed tonight, and for a moment she entertained the thought of being that for him, of possibly needing that herself.

Tightening her arms around his neck, she hugged him close, tucking her head into the comforting crook of his neck for a brief reprieve. Her lips brushed the base of his throat in a loving kiss and she pressed her nose to his skin.

"This weekend," she whispered, an offer that just barely reached his ears.

"Aubrey…" he murmured back.

"…is camping with your sisters and their kids," she reminded him, pulling back in time to see the smile that graced his lips. "We can…" she trailed off, searching for words that wouldn't be a euphemism or an understatement.

"Talk?" He was grinning now, his brows raised in a playful challenge. Talking had gone rather well that first time…

"Yes." Nodding just once, she smiled, eyes absentmindedly roaming over his chest. "We can talk." Her eyes flickered to his appreciatively in both an agreement and an implication. "I really should go… It's getting late."

"Yeah, it is," he reluctantly agreed.

"I'll see you tomorrow at work?"

Eric nodded, hands gliding over her curves only to settle at her waist again. He didn't want to wait until tomorrow, didn't want to sleep without the feel of her skin on his or the soft weight of her body beside him. After today, he needed to know she was okay and real, that _this_ was real and not slipping through his fingers like before.

Her palms coasted over the back of his head, settling at the warmth of his neck, and she pushed up onto the tips of her toes again to capture his lips with hers.

"Goodnight," she uttered a minute later, but it took her twenty more to leave.


	14. Take Me Back to the Start

Sorry for the long wait. I definitely didn't mean to take such a hiatus, but between being really busy with moving and suffering a mild case of writer's block it just took me a while to get this finished. I hope you enjoy it, though! I promise I'll try to get the next one up sooner. Thanks to **restless-mess** for the beta. And Happy Mother's Day to the moms out there!

* * *

_You're the sky that I fell through_

_And I remember the view_

_Whenever I'm holding you_

_The sun hung from a string_

_Looking down on the world as it warms over everything_

_Chills run down my spine_

_As our fingers entwine_

_And your sighs harmonize with mine_

_~Owl City – "If My Heart Was a House"_

The past four days had been torture. Between their near-miss family night, a too early goodnight, and seeing him every single day throughout the workweek, Calleigh found herself aching for him more than just a little.

He'd been amazing ever since their grief-purging shower, giving her space but checking in on her here and there – usually in a silent, discreet way she only picked up on because she knew him so well.

She knew his motivations, knew all his tricks and subtle looks. She knew that sometimes he couldn't keep his heart from his sleeve if he tried.

Yet when he'd asked to pick her up from her house at eight o'clock on Friday – work willing – she'd had no idea what to expect. Longing glances and heated touches left little else to the imagination, but they were rebuilding here. They had so much to discuss and even more to lose.

Now, though, as she sat in the passenger seat of his car, nothing felt more natural than this – hands touching, fingers entangling, conversation comfortably lacking. Her lips curved upward at the long lost contact as she took in their surroundings, trying to figure out just what he had in mind.

Eric let his hand play with hers, palms kissing, fingers sliding down hers until only the pads of their fingertips touched before finally reconnecting and filling the spaces between her fingers with his yet again. Hand naturally closing around his, she laid her head back against the seat and glanced at him, distracted for a moment by the smile gracing his lips.

"Where are we going?" she finally managed to ask.

He grinned in response, chancing distraction as he glanced her way. Her hair was down and straight from work, but the casual red dress and silver bracelet also adorning her body were purely off-duty indulgences.

"Well," he began, that grin still on his lips as he forced himself to focus on the road. "I thought we'd have some wine…and food."

Calleigh's eyes were on him now, studying the mysterious gleam in his eyes. "Really? That sounds like a date." She tightened her fingers around his, smiling playfully.

"Is that okay?"

"Yeah, it's good," she said with a reassuring smile. Despite the familiarity, despite the comfort, it was still a little unnerving. "It's been a while."

The meaningful glance he sent her way did not go unnoticed by her, but their surroundings drew her attention back to the road. Familiar houses flew by as he turned down his own street, and the amused smile on her face revealed her suspicions.

"So where's this wine and food place?"

Her question was so very obviously answered as he pulled into his driveway, finally able to focus on her smile as he slid the car into park.

"You picked me up to drive me to your house," she realized aloud, sitting there baffled for a moment even after she'd unbuckled herself.

"Hey, I never said we were going _out_ for all this," he pointed out playfully as he met her at the front of the car. Taking her hand, he led her up the short walkway, taking his steps backwards for a few beats so he could watch her. "I thought we'd have a glass of wine here, then head out somewhere."

His hand curved around hers again, less playful this time as he linked their fingers. "I figured it'd be nice to have some time here again without having to walk on eggshells."

"Yeah." Aubrey. She smiled immediately at the thought, and at their halfhearted attempt to disguise their affections the other night. "We weren't very good at that anyway."

"No," he agreed with an amused smile. "We weren't."

Slowly, almost shyly, he moved their hands to her waist and pulled her close to him on his doorstep. The emotion in his eyes, combined with the delicate way he tucked her hair behind her ear with his free hand, had her already near the point of no return again. As much as she'd chastised him for it, she wanted this – them, here, alone where they could touch and talk and simply be.

Reluctantly drawn from his reverie of blonde hair and green eyes, he opened the door and ushered her inside. The air was thicker this time with tension, uncertainty, and possibility. As grateful as they both were for the time alone, neither could deny that Aubrey had been a welcome distraction from the grief and tension that night.

"I miss her," she admitted, pressing her lips together as they made their way into the kitchen. Her fingers aimlessly slid across the nearest surface – his kitchen table – and then she gracefully eased her weight onto it.

Eric smiled. She was always doing that – seating herself on desks in the lab, favoring counters or tables over chairs. It was an adorable habit.

"She's been gone five hours." He raised an amused brow in between pouring two glasses of red wine.

"I know, but…" Sighing, she watched him walk towards her and took a glass from his hands. She smiled, conceding, and rolled her eyes a little at both Eric and herself. Maybe it was a bit irrational, but this camping trip delayed her time with Aubrey, and being with Eric made the longing for their daughter grow tenfold.

She took a slow, lingering taste of the bittersweet wine, all too aware of the adoring way his eyes were dancing over her.

"You're amazing with her." Thinking back, he shook his head, still affected by the sight of Aubrey cuddled up against Calleigh's chest. "I hadn't seen you two like that in a long time."

She smiled sadly, biting her lip as she focused on the glass in her hand. It _had_ been a while since they'd all been together, and the main reason she was missing Aubrey this badly was because it had been two days since she'd spent more than five minutes with her. They were busy, and on top of it their time with her was now divided instead of shared.

"Do you think we spend enough time with her?" she asked, meeting his eyes.

He didn't have to hesitate to tell her the truth. "For our situation, yes. But honestly, no." Holding her gaze, he set his glass beside her. Utterly unable to resist the need for contact, his fingers grazed her knee and curved around to touch the sensitive, soft underside. "I want to be with both of you every day."

She smiled at the thought but looked away, still riddled with reservations. Despite his want, so was he.

His touch kept her grounded, though, and she focused on how right her skin felt beneath his, how right it felt to want him, to want their family.

"So where do we go from here?" he all but whispered, eyes imploring hers.

Her only response was to tug on his button-up, pulling him close between her legs until there was an attainable distance between her lips and his. She closed that distance immediately, lips capturing his with a gentle force that had him placing his free hand on the table to steady his reeling heart. He wanted to take his time, wanted to revel in this, so his mouth moved against hers in a tantalizingly slow press and slide.

Leaning into him, she set her own glass beside his, leaving her hands free to roam up his chest and over his sides with the same balance of need and awe. Where his hand had settled on the underside of her knee, his fingers traced invisible patterns against her skin. She smiled when his touch traveled lower instead of higher, his hand exploring the smooth skin of her calf with a heated yet patient touch.

His touch was an automatic trigger, though, and tension had built up over the past two weeks to coil once again, throwing aside all notions of going slow to savor their time together.

Instead, she parted her lips and his urge to taste her became too great. He surrendered in the familiar battle of lips and tongue, sinking into both the kiss and her body as her legs hugged his, drawing him closer.

Fingers delving into her hair, he cradled her face with one palm, his other hand engaging in a painstakingly slow waltz back up her leg. Once there, however, he wasted no time in splaying his fingers across her thigh just beneath the loose fabric of her dress.

Needing a moment, he pulled back slightly to catch his breath and calm his racing heart. Her heated breath mixed with his as he rested his forehead against hers, smiling broadly.

"That's a good place," he decided, nodding against her skin.

It took her a moment to emerge from her desire-laden fog and remember just how they'd ended up lip to lip, skin against skin. "Yeah," she finally agreed, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and meeting his eyes. "It is."

Placing his hands against the small of her back, he let one trail up and down her spine soothingly. "What do you want to do this weekend?" By the look on her face, he immediately knew he'd opened a can of worms.

But she smiled, smoothed her hands over his shoulders, and weaved her fingers together at the base of his neck.

"Stay here?" she offered, and that was more than okay with him.

* * *

Maybe they'd taken her suggestion a little too literally, Calleigh thought as she lay tangled in Eric's sheets, his warm body pressed against hers. They'd stayed here, all right.

In fact, they hadn't left – not for dinner like he'd planned and definitely not for breakfast. Not even for lunch or dinner the next day. Instead, they'd barely made it out of the bed so far, much to his boyish, smirky satisfaction. Because anyone who could keep Calleigh in bed at ten o' clock on a Sunday _had_ to be doing something right.

He'd accompanied her for her morning routine – coffee, breakfast, shower – but he'd easily managed to lure her back into bed. Right now they existed in a world of lazy kisses, sated bodies, fading pleasure, and heated skin. His palm coasted over her hip and across her abdomen, touching, admiring, and he smiled when she sighed contentedly.

"I should get up," she said softly, with so little motivation he couldn't take it seriously.

"No, you shouldn't." His knuckles grazed her ribs, and from his position next to her he watched as her eyes fluttered closed.

"Mmm." Smiling, she easily conceded. He was touching her without intent, touching her just to feel her, and it was so lovely and calming she could almost fall back asleep. "Maybe I won't then."

"Good call." His hand moved again beneath the sheets, skimming her side with just enough pressure to make her wish it were more. Next came his lips, pressing soft, loving kisses along her neck as he moved atop her, still with no intent save for touching every inch of creamy skin available. "When does Aubrey get back?"

"Um…" It took her a moment to ground herself, and another to process talk about their daughter while his hand was curving around the inside of her bare thigh. His tongue graced her skin with the next kiss to the column of her throat and she had to start all over again. "Your sister's gonna call me."

"You were almost asleep a minute ago," he noted, smiling when he pulled back and her eyes were still closed.

"Maybe," she admitted reluctantly, not wanting his delicate, sensual exploration to stop like she suspected it would. His gentle weight atop her dissipated, and she blinked as her eyes opened to the soft light, focusing on him. His hand never left her, though, and she was treated to soft circles around her hip while his eyes trailed over her.

"You should sleep." His voice was soothing, imploring, and she smiled even as his demeanor changed a little. "I know you haven't been getting much."

Calleigh looked away for just a moment, knowing the innocent thought that came to mind was more like a monumental one after all. "I've been sleeping just fine this week."

The corners of his lips curved just slightly. "Still," he urged, settling in against her, "you should get some sleep." Brushing her hair aside, he cupped the back of her head in his hand and lowered his lips to hers in a soft kiss.

When he pulled back, she bit her lip and met his eyes, suddenly finding it hard to protest. And when he tucked his head against her own and weaved their fingers together, she was so comforted she really did drift off again.

A few minutes later, after soft kisses and lingering caresses, he was assured she was asleep and carefully eased his weight off the bed. He picked up his haphazardly discarded cargo shorts and slipped them on over his boxers. Eyes on her again, he ran his fingers through her hair almost imperceptibly.

"I love you," he whispered, because saying it when she could hear it would mean far too much right now. But she knew. They both knew.

Sighing, he made his way down the stairs to rummage through his dwindling food supply for something they could make, something to keep them here. He knew they were nearing the point of stability in their relationship again, but all weekend this house had felt like a protective bubble, closing in perfection and shutting out everything else.

Being here with Calleigh, exchanging kisses and feeling her skin against his, was solace, and he wanted absolutely nothing to do with the outside world right now.

The knocking at his door completely disregarded his want. Slightly annoyed, he resisted the urge to ignore it, which proved to be a wise decision when he opened the door to reveal his mother on his doorstep.

Clorinda playfully scowled at the sight of her casually half-dressed son and then raised a curious brow. "Mijo, I hope that's not what you're wearing to mass…"

"Mass," rolled off his lips as though it were a foreign concept, as though he hadn't been accompanying his mother every week for the past several months. He'd lost all sense of time this weekend, though, and he glanced at his wrist to check the date and time. Empty. Calleigh had removed that, too.

Grinning, he rubbed his bare wrist and looked at his mother apologetically. "Mami, I'm sorry. I completely forgot it was Sunday… I've been catching up on some case stuff, preparing for court this week…"

Clorinda tilted her head to the side, eyeing him. Eric could keep enough mystery to be efficient in interrogating suspects, but he'd never been a very good liar when it came to family. Besides, he hadn't acted quite like this since he was dating around, hiding not so innocent relationships from her. That grin, along with the complete ease and contentedness radiating off him could only mean one thing, though. And that just seemed a little too good to be true.

"What happened to being bored without Aubrey to keep you busy?" Clorinda chided. "You've had all weekend to catch up on work."

"Yeah, I know." Eric shook his head, his laugh a little forced. "I guess I've been, uh…procrastinating. I'm sorry."

He was so charming she might've believed him, but the soft, coy, "Eric?" that came from the top of the stairway had her brow raised in an instant.

"Why'd you get out of bed?" asked the playful, feminine voice, colored with just enough southern sweetness to be exactly who she suspected.

Still, Clorinda felt rather uneasy when bare feet and legs began to move down the stairs. She was both relieved and unsurprised to see Calleigh before her, clothed only in what had to be one of Eric's button-up shirts.

The moment Calleigh realized he was at the door with someone – with his _mother_ – she froze on the last step, instinctively tugging the shirt further down her thighs.

Busted.

"Oh…hi."

"Calleigh," Clorinda let out affectionately, her excitement over seeing her there outweighing the obvious awkwardness. "Mija, it's good to see you. How are you?"

"I'm good," Calleigh said, a little too quickly. Immediately wondering what that implied, she risked an uncomfortable glance at Eric that only turned into a smile.

Noting the exchange, Clorinda smiled and directed her attention back to her son. "So…procrastinating?"

"Yeah, uh…" He chuckled, ducking his head and rubbing his brow. "Sorry about that. I didn't want to lie, I just…" he trailed off, looking back at Calleigh and smiling again.

"How long?" his mother asked.

"A couple weeks."

"And Aubrey doesn't know?"

"No, not really," Eric told her, though he knew Aubrey had sensed a change. "We don't want her to know until we're sure about this."

At that, Clorinda raised a brow, her eyes dancing between their half-dressed bodies and the smiles that refused to leave their faces. "Looks like you're pretty sure…"

"Mami," he warned, albeit playfully.

"_Okay_, si, I am going to mass." Eyes shifting between the two of them, she smiled, enjoying the proof of what she'd known for years – that they were good together, happy together. After the past rocky year or so, it seemed too good to be true, but it felt right. It felt amazing, actually, to see them like this again. "We'll talk later. Enjoy your…procrastinating."

Still hiding behind the final post on the stairs, Calleigh covered her amused smile with her fist, pressing her fingers tight against her lips to keep from laughing.

Because there was no way to gracefully acknowledge that, Eric simply smiled and said, "Enjoy your Sunday."

Closing the door, Eric leaned into it a little and shook his head. "You just had to wake up right then."

"Oh, _I'm_ sorry," Calleigh retorted sarcastically, playfully putting her hands on her hips. It reminded him so much of Aubrey it almost hurt. "Maybe you should've warned me you'd be chattin' it up with your mom at the door."

He laughed, as he always did when she got like this, and took a challenging step forward. "I was just hoping to get her away as fast as possible."

Calleigh nodded, eyes on his as the humorous awkwardness faded and the realization that someone knew sunk in. Somehow, it felt like even more was at stake now, felt as though this was even more serious. Both were good and bad.

Eric ducked his head as he walked up to her, leveling his gaze with hers at her obvious distraction. As if following her thought process, he asked, "Is it okay that she knows?"

"Yeah." She smiled, and his heart did that thing she sometimes made it do where it felt like it stopped and practically leapt into his throat. "It's more than okay, actually. It feels really good."

Grinning, he slipped his arms around her waist and brought himself closer to her. With her on the bottom step, she was just a little closer to his height and he lowered his forehead to hers, noses brushing against one another's. Hands traveling down her sides, he smiled when his fingers ran out of shirt and grazed the bare skin of her thighs. He was instantly reminded of all the soft skin just below this precariously buttoned shirt.

The thought of his mother seeing her in it added a level of both excitement and amusement that had his palms coasting over the backs of her thighs. "Why do I feel like we're seventeen and just got caught doing something very, very bad?"

This time she grinned, and as her hands ran down his chest to settle teasingly low on his abdomen her eyes darkened again. "You haven't done anything bad," she began, tongue dipping out to wet her suddenly dry lips. "At least not yet."

With a frustrated groan, he wrapped his arms around her thighs and easily hoisted her into his arms. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he asked as he began to carry her up the stairs.

Arms around his shoulders, she curved a hand around the back of his skull, fingers grasping his short hair, and brought her lips to his ear. "Why do you think I do it?"


	15. Where I End and You Begin

_Hold on, what's the rush, what's the rush?_

_We're not done, are we?_

'_Cause I don't need to change this atmosphere we've made_

_If you can stay one more hour…_

_Can you stay one more hour?_

_~Safetysuit – "Find A Way"_

_

* * *

_

Even through the cardboard sleeve, the coffee cup in her hand was almost too hot. She had to slide her grip up with one hand, her other raising her own cup to her lips for a sip of the delicious fix. It was a little strong for her taste, but Eric loved it and for that reason she always found it soothing, familiar. Plus, it gave her a quite lovely jolt on Monday mornings.

Bumping the door with her hip, she entered the A/V lab where Eric was already scanning through photos. She smiled and stepped up next to him, setting his cup down on the desk. "Good morning."

Eyes trailing over her, he simply took her in as a little smirk tugged at his lips. She looked good – _really_ good – all refreshed and glowing like she was still hopped up on afterglow.

"It is now," he said, pointedly looking her over. His eyes danced between the coffee cups expectantly. "Mine?"

"No," she replied nonchalantly, though her eyes gave her game away as she coyly slid the cup back towards her. "Travers, actually. Is he here yet?" She smiled sweetly. "You know, I always did have a thing for accents."

"Oh yeah?" He chuckled, leaning into her and checking for wandering eyes before he discreetly touched her hip and brought his lips close to her ear. The following words that tumbled off his lips did so in Spanish with every bit of the Cuban influence he'd grown up with. He was whispering to her as though they were between the sheets instead of glass walls, and judging by her heavy-lidded eyes and smile he was having the desired effect.

"Yeah, okay," she said quickly. Point taken. Slowly sliding the cup across to his awaiting hands, she tilted her head in defeat. "Yours. Careful, it's hot."

"Thank you." Grinning, he wrapped his hand around it and briefly glanced at the screen before them in an attempt to focus on work. "So how's Aubrey? No gashes or broken limbs?"

"Nope. It's a miracle. I even checked her up and down and…" She bit her lip, remembering.

"What?" Eric turned his head suspiciously.

"Well, she did scrape her knee, but it's a normal scrape, not an Aubrey scrape."

Eric shook his head, laughing at the absurdity of their classification system. "Meaning no stitches or blood transfusions?"

"Exactly." Calleigh smiled, setting her cup down so she could reach for the case file laid out on the desk. "Oh, and she wants a horse for her birthday now. She doesn't think it can fit in her bed, but maybe ours."

At that his eyes remained on her, but they softened at her slip. Her eyes danced over the pages unaware, catching up on case details while he watched her unabashedly. So naturally had the thought of _their_ bed come to her mind and fallen from her lips that she hadn't given it a second thought, hadn't caught his reaction until five minutes later when his gaze was still on her.

"What?" she asked, searching his eyes, her mind full of crime scene details and blood splatter patterns instead of Freudian slips.

"Nothing." He grinned, glanced at the file, and began catching her up on the case.

Beyond the glass doors, Ryan had come to a stop in the hallway outside the A/V lab. He tilted his head curiously, eyes just barely narrowing for further inspection. Something was…different. He couldn't quite put his finger on it because Calleigh could be hard to read, but she and Eric were in the same room and that was monumental in itself.

Their shoulders were relaxed, at ease, and he was pretty sure he saw her smile. Maybe they'd finally mastered this charade at work, or maybe they were just putting a show on for Aubrey, but something about the way her eyes landed on him told Ryan that something else was most definitely going on.

"Uh, little creepy there, Ryan," Natalia noted upon finding him standing in the hallway, waiting, watching. She'd startled him a little, but he laughed, pulling her aside with him.

"I'm not creepy." She raised a playfully challenging brow and he directed her eyes with a nod toward his proof. "Something's up."

"With Calleigh and Eric?" she asked, following his gaze. "Something bad?"

"No, that's the weird thing." He paused, brows slightly furrowed as he replayed the scene in passing over again in his mind. "She smiled at him…and not like a polite, 'Oh, thank you for that evidence,' smile. It was kind of…flirty."

"Really?" Interest piqued, she joined him in watching them from across the hall for a moment before she realized what she was doing. "Great, now you've escalated me to creeper status, too." Rolling her eyes, she gave up and motioned for him to follow her so they could team up on cases.

"Good morning," Natalia said, albeit sarcastically because they'd already received a couple reports. "I just got a call-out to a warehouse downtown." She waved the post-it note of information in front of her enticingly as if it were some prize. "Who's in?"

Calleigh sunk her teeth into her lower lip, glancing at Eric awkwardly before letting her eyes wander back to Natalia. "H already has us going back over the Davis case to try to pinpoint a motive."

"Oh, okay." Natalia was pleasantly surprised and she couldn't help the light smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. "So you're working…together?"

"Uh, yeah," Eric answered, focusing absentmindedly on the photos though a hint of a smile challenged his facade. "Figured we'd change it up a little."

Natalia grinned, noticing Calleigh adjust the cardboard sleeve on her coffee cup – her coffee cup that was identical to Eric's. Ryan was right. Something was up – and not just something, but huge, monumental things, if Natalia could place her bet. She'd been waiting for this.

"Well, good for you guys." Her eyes danced between them both, hoping they'd picked up the double entendre, before she left with an equally amused Ryan.

Calleigh watched them go, eyes flickering to Eric again once they'd disappeared. "They so know."

"Probably," Eric admitted, admiring the little smile making its way across her lips. "Is that a problem?"

"No." She smiled fully, eyes dancing between his as she sighed with just enough weight to let him know she was a little worried. "But what are we going to do about work?"

Setting the case aside, he rested his palms on the counter and exhaled heavily, knowing she was going back over two years ago. They'd been given two options: someone transfers shifts or someone switches jobs. Married CSIs on the same team were a liability, a loose cannon.

"We'll figure it out," he promised, holding her gaze. She knew they would. They'd tried something before and it hadn't worked so they would start fresh, work together this time and try harder to find an option that wouldn't put distance between them.

She knew that. She just didn't know how little time they had.

* * *

Leaning against the modern, glass paneled railing, Calleigh tipped her weight back onto the heel of her stiletto. She had no idea what Internal Affairs wanted with her and, as terrible as it was, Stetler had nearly pushed her to the point where she just didn't care. She did, though, because she loved her job, along with all the rules and regulations that came with it. Plus, some of the other IAB agents were a little easier to respect.

She hadn't expected to see many familiar faces over on this end, so it took her a moment to spot Eric out of the corner of her eye. Brows furrowed in confusion, she smiled as he sidled up next to her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked as she stood up straight, one hand still lingering on the rail.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing." His eyes danced over her playfully but questioningly.

Starting to wonder about the real reason for this meeting, she cast her eyes toward the Internal Affairs offices. "Stetler called me in for a meeting."

With his eyes studying her knowingly, Eric sighed and shook his head disbelievingly. "Yeah, me too." The last time Internal Affairs had called them in together, he'd ended up switching to the night shift.

She nodded understandingly, pressing her lips together as she looked away. They'd been discreet; there was absolutely no way IAB knew what was going on, yet she still felt like she'd been backed into a corner. They knew this was an issue, knew that the only reason they'd been allowed to resume the same shift was because of their separation, and they knew the situation would have to be readdressed sooner or later. She just hadn't expected it to be sooner, and she hadn't expected it to be at such a pivotal point in their relationship when they hadn't yet discussed where they stood.

It was slightly terrifying to think about – addressing one of the issues that had contributed to driving them apart, forcing them to question everything just as they were finding solid ground. She was suddenly overwhelmed with the blinding realization that they weren't ready for this.

"So," he began, searching her eyes, "what are the odds it's about something else?"

She had to laugh at his optimism. "Not good."

Breathing in deeply to slow her racing thoughts, she leaned in against the railing again. No sooner had he settled in a comfortable distance beside her than Stetler and another sergeant, Owens, emerged from an office to usher them inside.

It felt strange to be back here, in this very room, where over two years ago they'd been searching for ways to stay together when as of late they'd been finding every reason to stay apart. That was changing, albeit slowly, and Eric hoped this wouldn't be a catalyst for doubt as he took a seat beside Calleigh.

"You're both longtime, trusted CSIs," Owens noted, settling into the large chair at his desk. Stetler leaned against the table behind him and adjusted his tie. "So I'll be frank with you. The department has been very accommodating in the past, despite regulations against fraternization, because of your continued professionalism. Regarding your separation, we trusted Lieutenant Caine with his decision to have you both work on the same shift again."

Rick Stetler's mouth noticeably tightened at the notion of his own department trusting Horatio. "But it was a temporary situation," he interjected, placing a condescending hand on his hip.

"It's just that today marks eight months since you separated," Owens explained in a much more understanding tone. "The department is in a bit of a tight spot with this still up in the air. Rules against fraternization aside, we just can't have married CSIs working together. Since you're still legally married, it's a legal liability for us. You're both very professional, but it's impossible for you to be objective in a dire situation out in the field."

Calleigh shifted slightly in her chair, tense at the vague reference to the day she'd proven them right. Eric's eyes danced over her knowingly and he swallowed hard, trying to find the words.

"We appreciate the leeway the department has given us with this," Eric said politely, focusing on Owens instead of Stetler. "And I wish we had a simple answer, but we don't right now. I think we've been trying to figure out what we want, and what's best for us and our daughter."

Stetler scoffed, shaking his head disbelievingly. "You know, Delko, I find it a little convenient that by _separating_ the two of you have been able to work together for eight months."

"What are you implying?" Calleigh cut in, green eyes piercing his with a ferocity he took as a challenge.

"Well, isn't that what you wanted all along?"

"Sergeant," Owens said sharply, reining him in – a little late.

"If you think we'd lie about our family, then you have another thing coming," Eric assured, obviously infuriated as he leaned forward, knuckles whitening with his grip on the chair. "What we _want_ is what's best for our family."

"Eric," Calleigh let out, her voice a soft, understanding warning. The hand she placed over his to calm him did not go unnoticed by Stetler and served to fuel his grand delusion. She pulled away when Eric had settled a little. "Rick, I think even you must know that's absolutely ridiculous." And that was as unbridled as her temper would get – still perfectly poised with her jaw set tight.

"The department has no such suspicions," Owens confirmed, clasping his hands before him on the desk. "We're concerned about right now, about the team."

"So what are you saying?" Eric's brows were knit in confusion, a hint of obvious anger lingering, too. "We can't work together anymore unless there are copies of divorce papers on your desk? And if we don't do that one of us has to leave the team?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Owens sighed, truly apologetic about splitting up two of the county's best CSIs both professionally and personally. Working this job, he'd seen a lot of cops with failed marriages – and that was with just _one_ cop in the family. "That's the position we're in. This has just been up in the air too long and I know you've been working cases together in the field lately. We can't risk another incident."

Turning, Calleigh met Eric's eyes, still filled with more anger than worry. "How long do we have?" she asked, gaze drifting back to Sergeant Owens.

"Three weeks. You have some time, but you're prohibited from working in the field together until then."

Eric shook his head, completely done with this meeting as far as he was concerned. "Are we done here?"

"For now," Rick replied coolly, standing up.

Following suit, Calleigh stood and smoothed her purple top into place. "We'll let you know," she told Owens with every bit of the professionalism she didn't feel like using.

They hadn't been able to get out of there fast enough, and as she walked at a blistering pace down the hallway he studied her tense posture, her distant eyes. Her silence worried him.

"What are we going to do?" he asked as they stepped onto the elevator, and though she knew he wasn't looking for an answer she shook her head.

"I don't know." She sighed, eyes studying his as though desperately searching for an answer. "We can't do what we did before… We have to work the same hours and actually see each other."

He nodded, and despite the weight of the situation he was smiling a little. She was considering alternatives, thinking up ways to allow them to keep working on this. Just two months ago they'd been so far from this point. "We'll figure something out," he promised again.

"You keep saying that…" She leaned against the side of the elevator, a sad smile on her lips as she focused on the floor. Deep down, she knew they would, but so far every possibility within sight would require drastic changes – so drastic they hadn't even brought themselves to discuss them.

"Because we have options, Cal. I could switch counties, I could leave-"

"No, stop," she pleaded. She needed time to think this through, time to weigh her options and consider changes without him offering to give up his world for them again. He'd gone with his first reflex last time and it hadn't worked out. She needed to think about what would be best for them, what she _wanted_, not what he was willing to give up. And that would take both time and space she didn't have right now. "I just can't do this right now." Her eyes met his in silent apology. "I need some time to think."

"Okay." He knew she was closing off again, tucking a little part of herself away for self-preservation, but it seemed different this time. Her eyes were honest, open, and if he was honest with himself she was right: they needed to think this through, and right now they had work to deal with. "Let's just work the case."


	16. Find A Way

_You know I'm gonna find a way_

_To let you have your way with me_

_You know I'm gonna find a time_

_To catch your hand and make you stay_

_~Safetysuit – "Find A Way"_

_

* * *

_

Coming back to this house had felt different ever since he began dating Calleigh, and especially ever since he had his own family. While his childhood home still held a special place in his heart and would always be a place of family and comfort, his home was with Calleigh now – and with Aubrey.

Over the past few months, he hadn't necessarily enjoyed coming here and playing the part of the lonely bachelor. Coming to family dinners alone and occasionally with Aubrey wasn't ideal, but it did offer some comfort. Plus, it made his mom ecstatic, which made him happy, and tonight was no different.

"Mijo!" she called out excitedly as he made his way through the foyer. She wrapped her arms around him at the doorway to the kitchen, rocking him just as much as she was hugging him. "How are you? Where's the little one and your, uh, distraction?"

"Hey," Eric warned with a cautious glance toward his family on the deck – separated from them by a mere screened door. "Keep it down, will you? And Calleigh has Brie tonight…you know that. Cal picked her up." Despite his warning, a smile was tugging at the corners of his lips at the mention of Calleigh and Aubrey.

"Hmm." Clorinda pulled back, eyeing him as she placed her hands on her hips. "You're sticking to that?"

Casting his eyes on her with a bit of exasperation, Eric tilted his head. "Of course we're sticking to it. She doesn't need the back-and-forth, and we don't want to make things hard on her again."

"You really think you would?" Smiling, Clorinda watched as he moved about in his usual routine – checking the counters for homemade snacks, breaking a sizeable chunk off an empanada, and finally pouring himself an oversized glass of lemonade. Twenty years of adulthood later and he was still the kid who shamelessly raided her food supply.

"No, I don't," he admitted, smiling as he turned to rest his back against the counter. "But it's taken her eight months to finally understand that we live in separate places. We really don't want to put her through anything like that again."

"You won't," she assured with every bit of the confidence of a knowing mother. With a playful gleam in her eyes, she then asked, "So you're just going to sneak around in the meantime?"

"Maybe." He grinned, fully aware that while he wanted nothing more than to be with Calleigh and Aubrey, to come to these dinners as a family again, the hidden relationship certainly held its share of excitement. And when his mother's eyes narrowed on him condescendingly he threw his arms up, playfully defensive. "What?"

"You're sneaking around with your wife," she reminded him in a quite forceful whisper, though her eyes were still sparkling. Grin still etched across his lips, he stole a spoonful of whatever was simmering in a saucepan over the stove and earned himself a light smack on the arm.

"Can you blame us?" Eric asked, and Clorinda raised a brow. "C'mon, Mami. You guys are as bad as Aubrey." He chuckled a little, shaking his head. "Besides, you know it's not like that. We're not just going back to each other because we have a history. This is right for us and we're working on things."

"I know, Eric." Her voice was softer now as she laid a reassuring hand over his arm. "It just seems so simple. You love each other, you're happy together."

"We just have a lot to figure out, especially with work." Sighing, he met his mother's eyes, their current situation practically written all over his face. "We can't be married and work together."

"So don't work together." She shrugged and Eric had to smile. She was right; it was simple…in theory.

"We'll figure something out," he promised for what felt like the hundredth time.

"And when you do…" she began, picking up a few things to take outside. "You're all coming over. No more of this two of you at a time business."

"Okay." Smiling in agreement, he grabbed a bowl and held the door for her.

"Promise?"

"I promise," he agreed, laughing.

* * *

Calleigh had been turning over options in her mind all day. She'd been right about needing time to think, about needing space. She knew Eric would not only be willing to throw out all sorts of self-sacrificing solutions, but also to almost immediately follow through on them. They didn't need that right now. They had time, and hastily switching jobs or shifts again likely wouldn't be good for anyone involved.

Still, she hadn't been able to steer her thoughts from that direction, not even to focus on the case like she'd requested of Eric. She'd been considering possibilities, tracing scenarios and potential outcomes all day. Aubrey had distracted her for a decent part of the evening, but she'd been tucked into bed an hour ago and now Calleigh's mind was running a little wild again.

Sinking back into the comfortable couch with a cup of tea, she propped her feet up on the coffee table and sighed. Hours later Eric was still respecting her need for space. Even though she'd asked for it, and even though she knew it was good for them both to take a step back and think, she couldn't help the nagging feeling that had been in her all evening. Boundaries aside, that nagging was telling her that they should be together right now – talking, sharing thoughts, discussing options… This was a decision about their careers _and_ their family; it felt wrong to be apart tonight.

If nothing else, she wanted to curl her body against his and tuck her face into the safety of the crook of his neck. She wanted comfort, wanted to know that when all was said and done, and when careers were changing, they would still be here – familiar, unchanged, at home.

Lifting the mug to her lips again, she took a slow sip and let the warmth spread throughout her. It wasn't enough to ward off the unsettled feeling that had taken up residence in the pit of her stomach. She needed what she hadn't had before: his hand in hers, the calm assurance that a drastic change could be for the better.

Sighing, she smiled a little at giving in and leaned forward to retrieve her cell phone from the table. His name was in her recent calls these days, so it was only a matter of moments before the line was ringing.

"Hey," he answered softly, and she could distinguish the low rumble of his family's bustling conversation in the background

"Hey…" The noise faded as he moved away under his mother's knowing gaze, into the house, and eventually they were in complete, soothing silence. Calleigh sighed again, tilting her head back against the soft cushion. She remained there for a while, just taking in the feel of him on the other end of the line as he did the same. And then she breathed in deeply, whispering, "Come over."

That was all it had taken. Soon he was excusing himself from a night with family, directing his car towards the house, and using the key she'd never asked for to quietly come inside.

The sound of the door opening had her lifting her head from the comforts of the couch in time to see him coming down the hallway. Smiling, she sat up as much as her tired body would allow.

"Sorry…" He slowed, awkwardly holding up the keys before tucking them back into his pocket. "I didn't want to ring the doorbell and wake Aubrey up."

"No, it's okay," she assured, smiling again – both dismissively and with a hint of amusement. The thought of him using his key was awkward after their time apart, but not uncomfortable, and she realized he was a little more welcome here than either of them probably anticipated.

As he reached her, his fingers crept beneath her chin to tilt her head back. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers in a soft kiss, hand gliding along her jaw to cradle her face in his palm. When he pulled back, smiling, she left her head tipped back against the pillows and simply watched him settle in beside her.

"You look tired," he noted, lips still curving upward as he took in her beautiful features. "Did I wake you?"

"No, you didn't." She turned to face him, curling her legs in a little to keep the intimate contact to a minimum, both because of Aubrey and for the sake of this conversation. But neither his eyes nor his hands could resist the skin revealed to him by her simple black silk chemise. It wasn't supposed to be sexy, but it so was, and soon his hand was resting beside her knee, fingers lovingly smoothing over her skin. "I've just been thinking…"

"Yeah…" His voice was soft, understanding, and a little curious. As his fingers brushed against the soft underside of her knee, he watched her smile. "Me too."

"I keep running through scenarios and it feels like any option will mean huge changes." She sighed, focusing on the comfort in his touch, the promise in his eyes.

"I know," he admitted, moving a bit closer to her. "I think it's going to come down to what change we can deal with the easiest."

"If one of us switches to another county, we'd almost have to move," she thought aloud.

Following her train of thought – it was one he'd already been down – he nodded. "We'd both have longer drives, we wouldn't have family as close to help with Aubrey…"

Nodding, she wrapped an arm around her legs and took his hand in hers. "I can't see either of us working a different job, though. I mean, you even tried the forensic expert job for the State Attorney's office and you ended up right back at the lab."

"I didn't have a family to come home to then," he pointed out, and she easily read between his words. He'd give it all up again so long as he had them to come home to.

"I don't want you to work a job you don't like." Her brows furrowed in concern and she threaded their fingers together, her palm pressing against his. "You love this job, and this team. Horatio literally hand-picked you."

Eric smiled sadly. "He did the same with you."

"Except I was already trained," she reminded, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "He knew you'd be a good CSI before you'd even considered it."

Sighing, Eric simply watched her. He knew her mind was going a mile a minute and he could sense the commotion behind her eyes as she fixed her gaze upon her lap. There was no easy fix in sight this time. Even though they had three weeks to come up with something, he knew they were both worried by the lack of options and the elusive changes looming over them.

Calleigh tucked a few errant locks of blond hair behind her ear and breathed in deeply. "I spoke with Horatio today," she finally told him, collecting her thoughts as she absentmindedly toyed with the hem of her gown. "About just working Ballistics."

He froze for a moment, studying her as though waiting for a playful smile to break through. But she was just waiting, searching his eyes to gauge his reaction. "Cal…" He couldn't but laugh a little, mostly in disbelief, but either way was evidently the wrong response.

"You're laughing." She tilted her head questioningly. "Why are you laughing?"

"Because…" he began, trailing off with a smile because there were just too many reasons. "Just… No."

Pushing up from his seat, he let his hand trail up her arm as he moved toward the end of the couch to slide in behind her. She shifted, albeit reluctantly, to make room for him. As her back rested against his chest and his arms circled her waist, though, she was thankful for the contact.

"I can't imagine you not in the field chasing down suspects and interrogating them," he told her, immediately smiling at the irony because she was here in his arms right now with a pretty gown and the softest skin he'd ever touched. "You're good in the field. We need you in the field."

"No, you don't." Turning slightly towards him, she rested her head on his shoulder and watched his thumb smooth over her stomach. "We have the biggest team we've ever had right now. Plus, I'd have scheduled hours for the most part, so I'd be around for Aubrey more."

"But you're _really_ good, and you live for this stuff." He tightened his arms around her emphatically and rested his head atop hers. "I don't want you to work a job you don't like either."

"I love guns," she countered, smiling a little. "And we'd still get to work together a lot, we wouldn't have to move, we'd still have your family really close, we wouldn't _both _be risking our lives every day…"

"Yeah, and you'd hate it when you couldn't personally nail someone with evidence, or when you'd have to sit back and wish you could do more in the field." His words were a low rumble against her ear and she sighed, unable to deny what she may or may not feel in the future. She was certain she would miss it, but a part of her was sure that being in the field would pale in comparison to having one of them free to pick Aubrey up from school, to be there more consistently in the evenings.

"But it's something to consider," she insisted, laying her hands over his. "And Horatio admitted that it would be really useful… We're cutting it close and occasionally missing deadlines with cases that are going straight to court because I'm out in the field and there's no one test firing, analyzing, and testifying full-time."

Eric sighed, too, pressing a kiss to her temple before resting his head back against hers. "We have three weeks," was his only response. "We can think some more, talk to different people in the department."

"Okay." She nodded, fingers interlocking with his from behind as she simply reveled in the comfort of his presence like she'd wanted to all evening. Just having him there, talking and weighing their options, was soothing, but there really was nothing more reassuring than having her body tucked against his, his heart beating beneath her.

And he was just taking in the feel of her in his arms, the scent of vanilla with a hint of lavender emanating from her soft skin and hair. The silence was calming, peaceful, and his thoughts drifted a little to the amusing way his mother had looked at him tonight when he got that call. She'd set her gaze on him, judging but smiling as though he'd just received a typical, not-so-Catholic late night request.

Smiling, he pressed a kiss just below her ear and said, "My mom thinks we're sneaking around."

Calleigh laughed, quietly because there was hopefully a sleeping child upstairs, and shook her head. "I guess I can't blame her, but do you know how bad it would be if your family knew and Aubrey didn't?"

"Uh, yeah. That situation wouldn't exist for long." He continued to dot warm, innocent kisses along her neck until he reached her shoulder, resting his chin there. Eyes drifting toward the stairs, he thought of just how much they were chancing here and sighed. "I should probably go…"

"I don't know," Calleigh began, biting her lip and turning until her eyes met his. "She was still pretty tired tonight from camping. We can stay here a little while."

With a tired smirk etched across his features, he gripped her chin lightly between his thumb and forefingers, drawing her lips to his. A few seconds in and a press-and-slide later, Calleigh recognized the distinct _thump_ of feet hitting the floor upstairs.

"So pretty tired, huh?" Eric mocked as she sighed and pulled away. "You should've known that kid does not stay down long."

"She was really tired," Calleigh defended as she moved to assume an innocent, more conversational position on the other sofa cushion. The sound of little feet padding down the stairs had her gazing at him and smiling, as did the excited "Daddy!" that came from the hallway.

"I knew I heard your voice!" Aubrey exclaimed as she practically launched herself into Eric's lap on the sofa.

"Hey, Princess." Eric laughed, wrapping his arms around her and soothingly rubbing her back as she hugged his neck tightly.

"Why are you at this house?" She pulled away from him and glanced at Calleigh, speaking excitedly again before they could get a word in edgewise. "Are you talking to Mama about my party?"

Calleigh's eyes widened as they met Eric's again and a relieved smile graced her features. It wasn't often that Aubrey gave them an out just when they needed it. Aubrey looked between them both with tired, sparkling eyes, still a mess of tousled cinnamon hair and wrinkled pajamas.

Grinning, Eric tucked an especially out of place lock of hair back into its somewhat rightful position. "You caught us."

They both practically watched the excitement build within her until she had no choice but to bounce a little against the cushions to expel some of her energy. And then she paused, eyes flitting between them both as though worriedly contemplating something. "Are you both coming to the party?"

Calleigh hated that her daughter had to ask, but she swallowed down the lump in her throat and smiled, both at Aubrey and then at Eric. "Of course," she assured, playfully tugging at Aubrey's toes.

As if needing confirmation from both of them, Aubrey's eyes landed on Eric expectantly.

"We wouldn't miss it," he told her, loving the broad smile that broke out across her delicate features. As quickly as the excitement had set in, the hour of the night – and the comfort of having him there – seemed to weigh on her and she crawled back into his lap to curl up against him. "Mama and I were just talking about cake…"

Her eyes lit up again as she looked up at him. "Chocolate?"

"Mmm." His lips curved upward and he kissed her forehead just before meeting Calleigh's eyes. "Of course."

He'd caught Calleigh staring, admiring, and now their eyes were locked as he cradled Aubrey against his body and slowly lulled her back to sleep with easy conversation. Calleigh's eyes drifted back to Aubrey, who was still fighting between sleep and excitement, and Calleigh would never admit how much the sight before her made her melt.

Aubrey was resting her head on his chest, one leg slung over one of his, her arm draped over his stomach. She'd missed him. That, Calleigh knew, but seeing it right before her, watching them cuddle up and play catch-up, was something she wasn't at all prepared for. It tightened her heart in a good way and the emotional force of it nearly knocked the wind right out of her.

"I went…camping," Aubrey mumbled between yawns, as if he didn't already know. They'd talked about it on the phone, but it wasn't the same as being here.

"Yeah?" Smiling, he smoothed his fingers over her hair and met her tired eyes. "Did you have fun?"

"Yeah. Lots." She grinned, remembering, and then let her eyes drift to Calleigh. "But I think Mama's happy I'm home. She's been _really_ happy."

Calleigh shook her head, fighting a smile as she met Eric's amused eyes. "Oh has she now?" he asked with every bit of the implication she knew he'd latch onto.

"Uh huh." Aubrey laughed at his playfulness, missing the meaning, and then buried her face in the comfort of his chest. With her body all tucked against his and his hand rubbing her back soothingly, he knew she'd be under again in no time.

He glanced at Calleigh again and she was still watching, head propped up against the pillows so she could just take them in. Now she knew how he'd felt last week when Aubrey had cuddled up against her and fallen asleep. It was incredible to watch, and it tugged at her more after their time apart. She hadn't seen him like this in so long, all naturally comforting and absolutely amazing with their daughter. The overwhelming want to have this every night ambushed her and she breathed in deeply, for once comforted by the knowledge that this felt right.

They were tackling complications and obstacles one by one, and now they were so close to reaching the simplicity of them, here, now – together as a family. It had taken a while, but it was beginning to feel that simple.

Eric caught her gaze and smiled, glancing down at Aubrey. She'd fallen back asleep easily in his arms with both of them there. "Do you want me to put her back in bed before I go?"

"Yeah." Another smile graced her lips and she uncurled her legs, letting them rest atop his. Before he could stir much, she added, "Maybe in a little while."


	17. Something To Believe In

Sorry for the lack of updates. I was a little busy and just kind of got out of the writing groove, but here's a nice (hopefully), long (definitely) chapter for you. Thanks to TexasJen for giving me an idea for the beginning to get me going, and for reading through this to make sure everything was okay!

* * *

_I could walk across the ocean_

_With you walking next to me_

_And you could melt away this winter_

_Now we're starting over_

_We will see it's not too late_

_~The Afters – "Beautiful Words"_

_

* * *

_

Aubrey was eyeing him from across the table and he knew it. She'd inherited Calleigh's piercing eyes and his stubbornness, which resulted in a quite effective stare down. Still, even with a smile trying to tug at the corners of his lips, Eric wasn't going to give in. Fortunately for him, she also had Calleigh's impatience.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Brie?" He looked up from the case file to find her adorable face resting atop the arm that was sprawled along the edge of the table to hold a book open, boredom evident. Calleigh must have twisted her cinnamon blonde hair into french braids that morning, but by the end of the day they were always a little hopeless, with entire runaway locks in the back and ringlets sticking out here and there. And then he looked into her eyes, those eyes that always killed him – the same shape as Calleigh's and just as green, but darker with a little of his brown around the edges.

"I left my book at Mama's house." She sat up straight and clasped her hands in her lap properly, but her eyes sparkled with mischief.

"You can read this one."

"What if I forget the story?"

He chuckled at that, now knowing for sure that she was up to something. "Since when do you forget _anything_?"

She sighed exasperatedly and threw her hands up, making him wonder if she was turning fifteen this weekend instead of five. "But I'm going to get confused. Maybe we should go to Mama's and get the book…"

Eric knew exactly where this was going. "Brie," he lightly reprimanded. Setting the case file aside, he moved around the table toward her. After taking her into his arms, he set her down on the table and took the seat before her, resting his hands on her legs comfortingly. "Mama's at her house and I'm at mine. We can't just go over there."

He knew they _could_, and Calleigh would likely be more than happy if they did, but if they were still going to keep their lives a bit separate for her sake then he had to do a little damage control. That meant keeping this black and white: him here, Calleigh there, and not so many visits back and forth.

"But you came over last night." Her lower lip was sticking out just enough to make him melt and he sighed, meeting her eyes.

"We had to talk about your party, which we will _both_ be at," he reminded, playfully pinching her sides. She smiled, but it was only a brief moment before the gears were turning in her mind again.

"Are you gonna be happy or sad?"

Eric tilted his head questioningly, brows furrowing. "Of course we're going to be happy. You're turning a whole five years old."

Aubrey let out a frustrated huff of air. They really did not get this. She would have to be more direct.

"But happy like last night, like in the pictures."

Uh oh. Sighing, he kept his eyes on her expectant ones. "What pictures?"

"The happy ones in Abuela's picture book," she explained. A moment later she was flipping through the pages in her illustrated book until she'd reached the middle, where a glossy photograph had been tucked away.

The capture took his breath away. He hadn't known it existed, but he remembered the day well. It was a few weeks after his sister had received some fancy Nikon camera for her birthday in response to a photography hobby that had expectedly lasted a mere few months. After seeing this photo, however, he wondered if maybe she should have kept it up.

They were in his parents' backyard and the backdrop was a simple yet beautiful world of green – full bushes, flowering trees, and grass off in the distance. Though the photo cut off at her waist, it was obvious that he was holding her because he had her pulled close. Her hand was pressed against his chest as she leaned into his touch, smiling. She was almost grinning, actually, because he had his face buried into her long hair on the other side so he could whisper what were likely inappropriate sweet nothings into her ear.

Eric suspected that because, even though the picture didn't show it, he knew she'd been five or six months pregnant around that time. And subsequently, he'd been even a little more infatuated with her than usual. The curves, the adorable belly, feeling their daughter kick, the calming effect the whole motherhood thing seemed to have on Calleigh… He'd been falling more in love every day – still was, really, with both of them.

Exhaling heavily, he held the photo between his fingertips, unable to draw his eyes away. "This was a long time ago, Brie."

Despite his words, he was smiling. They'd been like this again lately, a little closer to simple.

Back then it had been _so_ simple. They'd come together like the missing link in a chain of events that was just waiting for them. They'd dated for a while, experiencing just enough conflict to make them strong. Marriage was more of an inevitability than a real decision, and a year later when they'd adopted a 'whatever happens, happens' philosophy, it had only taken two months for that positive pregnancy test. It was easy, natural, like it had all been waiting for them to realize it was there for the taking.

Things hadn't been so easy lately, but they'd endured a lot, and Eric had to admit that at some point they'd stopped doing what came naturally and started doing what felt 'right.' They'd had the best of intentions for their family, but switching to opposite shifts had turned everything upside down and lessened their ability to properly deal with pain and loss together.

Slowly but surely, they were getting back there, though. Kissing her all those nights ago at his house had sure been natural, and loving her was certainly easy. They just had to stay open with one another, to make the right decisions about work and Aubrey this time around.

Judging by his lack of reaction as he delved deep into thought, Aubrey was a little worried he was going to get her in trouble. "Don't tell Abuela I took it."

"I won't," he promised with a delicate kiss to her forehead. "We'll slip it back into her photo album tomorrow morning and she'll never know, okay?"

"Okay." Aubrey smiled excitedly about their secret mission before looking up at him expectantly again. "So are you going to be happy?"

Shaking his head, he looked at her disbelievingly. He should have known she was too smart and aware to be distracted so easily. Biting his lip, he chose his words carefully. "I am going to be very happy to see your mom."

Aubrey pursed her lips, hesitating. "Will she be happy to see you?"

"I hope so." He had to laugh a little at the inquiry.

"Happy like the pictures?"

"Maybe not quite like that," he admitted with a smile, glancing at the photo again. At least not in public yet…

She thought about it for a moment and then shrugged as though accepting a compromise. Still, her eyes held a world of thoughts and questions. "So do you need to talk about my party more?"

"_Brie._" Eric rolled his eyes playfully, shaking his head again. "The party is all set, we are staying here, your mom is at her house, and that's how it's gonna be until this weekend, okay?"

"Fine," she uttered, feigning a quite dramatic case of disappointment. "You run a tight ship."

Laughing, he watched her with an amused expression as she turned her attention back to the book with no problem. "Where do you get this stuff?"

At that, she simply looked up at him and tried to hide her mischievous grin to no avail.

* * *

Calleigh hadn't really anticipated how awkward today would be until this morning. Everything had been going so smoothly, even with the two of them sharing mutual time with Aubrey, that she hadn't considered the complexity of the three of them there, together, with a mother-in-law who knew everything and a group of family and friends who knew absolutely nothing.

But now, as Clorinda welcomed her inside, it was blatantly obvious.

"Mija, how are you?" Clorinda asked, pulling her in for a hug despite the cake taking up Calleigh's arms. "You look good."

"Thank you, so do you. And I'm good." She smiled genuinely, unable to help the way her eyes scanned the empty house expectantly.

"Eric and Aubrey are already here," Clorinda said knowingly, then thinking of the way Eric had been texting and grinning all morning. "But you already know that…" she added with a playful smile.

With a teasing, noncommittal shrug, Calleigh made her way into the kitchen to set the container down. She'd barely made it through the dining room and out the back door before Aubrey came careening towards her.

"Mama!" she let out excitedly, the two of them meeting as Calleigh bent down to hug her.

"Happy Birthday, baby," Calleigh said, repeating the words she'd whispered to her over the phone already that morning. Lifting her, Calleigh settled Aubrey into the spot she just barely still fit in to on her hip. "Oh my gosh, you _feel_ bigger."

Calleigh settled her hand over that ticklish spot on Aubrey's side, applying pressure when it was least expected. As Aubrey dissolved into a fit of giggles, Calleigh's eyes drifted to Eric. He was smiling in that awed way, but walking over slowly, hesitantly, as though as unsure of how to greet her as she was of how to greet him.

They hadn't seen each other outside work or Aubrey this week, and her natural urge was to tug him by a belt loop or a fistful of shirt until his warm body was close to hers, until she could press her lips to his. That, she knew, was not an acceptable greeting right now.

And so did he, judging by the way he slipped his hands into his pockets instead of into her soft hair.

"Hey," Calleigh said softly, gaze lingering on him.

"Hey." He smiled again, letting his eyes trace her features where his hands couldn't. And then he caught sight of their very perceptive daughter, who was studying them both with her usual mixture of understanding and innocence. Tilting his head at her, he sent her a reprimanding look that was reminiscent of earlier in the week and she sighed.

Given the distance they were keeping, nothing was going to happen, so she gave up a little. "Where's Abuela?"

"In the kitchen," Calleigh answered, instinctively giving Aubrey a quick hug before she let her hop down and run off. Calleigh watched her for a moment before she turned back to Eric, letting the knowledge that they were kind of alone sink in as his eyes held hers.

"Hi," she said, smiling playfully, eyes alight – a completely different greeting.

"Hi." Grinning, he stepped closer, and with her back to the house hopefully blocking anyone's view, he slid his hand over hers. Her smile grew broader as his fingers traipsed over hers before closing around her hand for a moment – their only moment of truth before the guests filtered in and they began their day of pretend. "How are you?"

"Good," she let out, nodding. The smile was genuine, but her eyes were a little thoughtful. "How about you?"

"I'm okay," he answered honestly, eyes drifting to their hands and then back to her face. "Wish this Saturday could have been like last…"

The flash of lips, skin, and heat that resonated throughout her mind and heart sent a warmth throughout her body and she smiled sadly. "Me too."

The sound of a car pulling up to the house drew his attention elsewhere for a moment. People were arriving. Sighing, he ran his thumb over the back of her hand. "Talk later?"

"Yeah." She squeezed his hand lightly, a promise.

* * *

Two hours later, the party was in full-force with kids running around, music pumping throughout the backyard, and adults clustered about in conversation. Calleigh, however, was off to the side, leaning against the fence that closed off the patio and watching as Eric pushed both Aubrey and a kid from her playgroup on the swing set.

Aubrey was more than capable of doing it herself, but she loved the little "jump" the swing gave when it went too high too fast, giving her a moment of weightlessness. Coincidentally, it made Calleigh jump, too – her heart, that was. And with every sharp "_Eric!_" she'd let slip in the past or every hand that had covered her anxious heart, Aubrey had let out this delighted giggle at the fact that someone could be worried about something so fun.

Calleigh had relaxed a little over the years. It had taken her a while, but she'd accepted their fate of sports injuries and playground accidents – and one day maybe bungee jumping or skydiving. Aubrey was their little daredevil, and if the stories Calleigh had heard from this family were any indication, that had come straight from Eric. Growing up, Calleigh had been a bit rough-and-tumble, but every move she'd made had been executed with purpose: showing the boy next door she was stronger, diving for the ball in a volleyball match, pushing herself to cut a few seconds off the time on her three-mile, and eventually police work. Otherwise she'd been cautious, calculated.

Aubrey's complete lack of such traits made Calleigh smile a little, and so did Eric's protective enthusiasm for it all. She couldn't help the curve of her lips as Eric pulled the swing further and further back, higher and higher over his head, asking if it was high enough before he launched her forward. So fixated was she that she hadn't noticed Alexx's lingering gaze or Eric's sister, Amelia, sidling up next to her.

"I think what you guys are doing is great."

Calleigh turned, a little startled by her presence and both confused and concerned by her words. Her gut reaction was that Amelia knew, but she reined in her defenses enough to smile amusedly and play it off. Amelia had been supportive throughout this ordeal, and even though she could read her brother like the back of her hand, Calleigh knew she hadn't quite caught on to her.

"What do you mean?"

"You and Eric," Amelia said, nodding towards him and making Calleigh bite her lip. "I mean, you guys are handling this so well. Most people get spiteful, especially when there are kids involved, but you guys seem so good with each other." She paused a little, exhaling before the next words fell from her lips with a hint of hesitance. "It's almost like nothing happened."

From a few feet away, Alexx couldn't help but tune out her husband's conversation and take note of the way Calleigh both shifted nervously and relaxed all at once.

"Yeah." Calleigh nodded, watching Eric again for a moment. "I guess with work we've seen too many custody battles gone wrong. We try to be objective and put her first."

Alexx tried to hide her smile, all too aware of the dissolution of the distance she'd seen between them just a month or two ago. Now there was just…tension. Lots of tension.

"Well, it's great," Amelia said again. "I don't know how you do it. Before Greg and I divorced, I thought I was gonna _kill_ him. Still do, sometimes."

Calleigh laughed along with her, shaking her head. "No, Eric's been great…" Her tone made it such a loaded statement, but Amelia hadn't quite picked up on it.

"That's good to know." Amelia smiled, proud of her little brother. "For what it's worth, I think that if you both still want to work it out, you can." She touched Calleigh's arm reassuringly. "You guys have always been so good together."

Calleigh simply smiled, the tiniest sliver of guilt working its way into her as she watched Eric's sister walk away. When she turned, she caught Alexx's gaze and smiled as her good friend walked over.

"So are you enjoying your time at a five year old's birthday party?" Calleigh asked, playfully shrugging her shoulders.

"Oh, I am." Alexx smiled, and Calleigh recognized that voice – that underlying, secretive tone that had always held an important, case-breaking discovery. "It's been very entertaining."

Calleigh nodded, eyes searching Alexx's as she raised a brow.

"So how long have you and Eric been back together?"

Once the immediate shock wore off, Calleigh opened her mouth to speak but only managed to let her eyes drift from Alexx to Eric. "We're not-" she finally managed, realizing mid-sentence that it was hopeless.

Of course she knew. This was Alexx, who had developed a keen sense for people throughout her years at CSI, even the live ones. And the last time she'd seen the two of them they'd been apart but struggling, nearing the boiling point. Alexx hadn't seen the gradual buildup, the slow changes in their day-to-day lives, that made it less drastic for others to witness.

So instead Calleigh let her lips curve upward a little as she shook her head. "I don't know," she began, retracing their complicated steps over the past few months. "A few weeks…a month or two?" Her voice had raised into a question at the end as she realized she had no idea. There had been moments when they'd let their guards down only to put them back up. There had been longing glances and loaded statements. If she thought back, she could remember in detail that first night they'd spent at his house, but when had they gotten back together? In a way, they'd never been apart.

Alexx nodded, understanding. "And that beautiful little girl of yours doesn't know?"

"No," Calleigh admitted, watching Eric and Aubrey again. "Not yet."

"So you're sneaking around?" Alexx raised a questioning yet amused brow.

"You know," Calleigh began dismissively, "I'm going to get a drink inside."

"So you are…" Grinning, Alexx shook her head. "No one here knows, do they?"

"Going inside, Alexx." Calleigh smiled as she backed away, avoiding the playful interrogation.

After filling up a cup of water inside, Calleigh wasted no time in taking up Clorinda's earlier offer to sneak some food before it was ready for everyone. She'd just hopped up on the counter and filled a bowl with some traditional, slow-simmered black beans and rice when she heard someone coming through the dining room.

Eric.

He smiled almost immediately as though he'd caught her, sneaking another playfully judgmental look over his shoulder as he poured his own glass of water. "Isn't that my job?"

Calleigh slid the fork from her mouth and smiled. "What?"

"Raiding the kitchen, stealing food…"

"Oh, yeah," she agreed, holding the bowl in both hands. "But that's not what I'm doing…'cause your mom loves me, and she said I was more than welcome to anything I wanted."

Eric chuckled, shaking his head as he walked towards her. Somehow their now-close proximity made everything a little more serious. "My mom does love you…"

Calleigh averted her eyes, focusing absentmindedly on the contents of the bowl as her mind swirled with thoughts.

"So what makes you so special you have to eat before everyone else?" he asked, lightening the mood again even as he drew closer.

"Nothing, I just ran three-and-a-half miles this morning and apparently I didn't eat enough."

"You always do that…" He smiled, finally giving in to the urge to touch her and letting his hand caress her bare knee. Suddenly, she cared so much less about food and so much more about his delicate touch, so she set the bowl completely aside.

"And you always make me breakfast," she continued, meeting his eyes meaningfully as his fingers curved around her leg.

He was already lost in memories, lost in the feel of her soft yet perfectly defined legs. His palm coasted over her skin, up to where her black shorts ended mid-thigh, and then back down to smooth across the top of her knee. When his fingers brushed against her calf, she tugged on his shirt until he was close enough for her to cradle his face in her hands and rest her forehead against his.

With her lips inches from his, she whispered, "I can't believe we have a five-year-old. I feel old."

He grinned, amused, and tilted his chin towards hers in a way that had her anticipating the feel of his lips on hers. He didn't make contact, however, and instead his nose simply brushed against hers.

"I decided we're not allowed to feel old until she's a teenager," he said softly.

"That's a good rule."

Running a hand through her soft hair, Eric held her gaze, admiring the glow of her light green eyes in the daylight spilling into the room. It was hard to mind Aubrey growing up when every day her toddler features seemed to ebb further away to reveal a striking resemblance to Calleigh. Her eyes seemed to read him and she smiled, letting her thumb rake over the light stubble gracing his jaw line.

They needed this, needed a moment of honesty amid all the half-truths and all the pretending.

"I missed you," she admitted, and even though they'd seen each other every day at work he knew exactly what she meant. She'd missed him like this, had missed the comforting truth in heated touches and soft kisses.

He brought his lips to hers in silent response, loving the way her hands instinctively slid around to cup the back of his neck. Pulling away for just a moment, he kissed the corner of her mouth and watched her eyes flutter closed. His hand grazed her bare skin again as he moved upward to rest it at the junction of her hip and thigh.

Her only protest came in the form of a soft, "Eric," just before his lips met hers again. Parting her mouth, she willingly let him pull kiss after kiss from her lips, let him tug on her knees to bring her body closer to his. And when his hand danced over her hip before slowly sliding right into one of her back pockets, she found herself drawing him closer still.

A small part of her knew they were playing with fire, but this felt so comforting and right, like coming home, that she didn't have the resolve within her to stop. One kiss had quickly spiraled into two and then five and…

"Daddy?"

They both froze, and Eric pulled away only enough to look back into Calleigh's eyes, in denial. Finally, he found the will to move his hands to the counter on either side of Calleigh and turn towards the voice.

She was standing in the doorway, somewhat hopeful, but mostly confused and a little disgusted. "_What_ are you doing to Mama?"

He let out a nervous laugh, running a hand through his short hair and chancing a glance at Calleigh's anxious eyes. Before he could formulate a response, Aubrey was doing it for him.

"You were _kissing_." She was still stuck in the doorway, almost as though afraid to enter this strange, strange world where things were a little more perfect than she'd ever imagined. "Did he give you flowers?" And then, before she gave her mother a chance to answer, she was continuing, "'Cause sometimes in movies the boy gives the girl flowers…and then they kiss."

"No, Brie…" Calleigh had to laugh a little. She hopped down from the counter, and Aubrey was all too aware of the way Eric's hand landed on the small of her back. "It doesn't always happen like that."

"Then why were you kissing?"

Calleigh bit her lip, hesitating, and Eric stepped forward with her to pick Aubrey up. He set her on the counter for a talk again, hands resting against the edge.

"Remember the happy pictures?" he asked, watching a smile break out across her features as she nodded. "And remember how I said we wouldn't be quite like that?" She nodded again. "Well, we're working on it…"

It took her a moment of looking between them to comprehend it all, and when she did her brows furrowed. "And that means kissing?"

How awkward that she was stuck on that, Calleigh thought, but she was mostly marveling at how easily Eric had put this into words that made sense to a five-year-old. Aubrey's eyes were drifting between them both, so Calleigh answered, "In a way, yeah."

Taking it all in, Aubrey put everything into context before focusing on Eric again. "Kissing is _way_ happier than the pictures," she decided, almost an accusation. "And gross."

But then Calleigh smiled, gripping Eric's forearm as she did so, and Aubrey recognized that smile – the one from the pictures, the one she very, very vaguely remembered from mornings long ago when she'd crawl into bed with both of them. She slowly realized that they _were_ happy.

"Fine," Eric said, playfully indignant as he tugged on her shoe. "Then we will try not to kiss around you."

"Good," she affirmed in the same tone, but a moment later her eyes were dancing between them once more, noticing the distance they were keeping again. Now something was missing again and even though she didn't quite understand the feeling, she knew that she wanted them happy and close again. After a few uncomfortably silent moments, she tucked a fallen lock of hair behind her ear and hesitantly asked, "Can you do it again?"

Despite all her previous reservations, Calleigh pushed up on the tips of her toes to meet him halfway. They'd already been caught; trying to deny it now would just be even more confusing. So she let him softly capture her lips with his in a short kiss, let him tuck her body against his.

And with her hands on his chest and his on her hips, Aubrey watched with cautious awe. This was starting to feel familiar, and she was suddenly unearthing memories she must have buried a while back: Eric coming home late to both of them in the big bed, kissing them both – her on the forehead, Calleigh on the lips. They were going back to the way they were, like in the pictures.

So much for black and white, Eric realized as he looped an arm around Calleigh and pressed his lips to Aubrey's forehead. Of course, their relationship never had been – and yet everything was so, so simple.


	18. Just Might Make Me Believe

_When sundown pales the sky,_

_I want to hide away behind your smile._

_Everywhere I'd look,_

_Your eyes I'd find_

_~The Spill Canvas – "Catch the Wind"_

_

* * *

_

Between chasing after a five-year-old on a sugar high and helping clean up after a good thirty people, Eric was actually exhausted. Maybe Calleigh was right; maybe they _were_ getting old, he thought with a smile.

But then all he had to do was look up from across the kitchen, catch Calleigh's eyes as she attempted to channel Aubrey's energy into something productive, and he was completely rejuvenated. She smiled at him over a bouncing, bubbly Aubrey and he grinned back, watching as she challenged Aubrey to go see what she could help her grandmother with out back.

In a flash, Aubrey was eagerly scampering outside, affording them another rare moment alone today. Calleigh smiled helplessly as she met his eyes again, her hands and arms elbow-deep in a sink full of soapy water.

"What am I going to do with her tonight?" She watched him walk closer, watched his hand settle on her hip, and sighed in contentment when his arms wrapped around her waist from behind. With all the guests now gone, their charade was over, but they'd still been a little hesitant up until now.

"Mmm," he murmured thoughtfully as his fingers slipped beneath the hem of her top. The pads of his fingers lightly brushed against her soft skin. "Run laps?"

"Funny," she let out sarcastically. Moving a dish to the other section of the sink, she rinsed it clean of detergent and dove her hands back into the soapy water. "I am way too tired for that."

He smiled appreciatively and pressed a kiss to her temple. "I'm sure she'll be tired by the time you're home."

"Yeah, hopefully."

She had to notice that they were still speaking in I's and you's despite what had happened earlier. Maybe it was best that way – to work on things while apart, to keep some distance until they had a plan. Letting Aubrey in on this hadn't been planned, and it certainly wasn't a be all, end all. They couldn't regain the sanctity of 'home' so easily. But if they couldn't recapture that this quickly, then why was the thought of leaving without him so disheartening?

"Where'd you go?" he asked, sensing her distance as his knuckles grazed over her abdomen.

"Nowhere." She smiled at his touch, but shifted a little. "You should stop that."

"Maybe," he admitted, but his fingers weren't agreeing. "What were you thinking about?"

She took a deep breath and his hands instinctively moved to a safer location on her hips. "What do we do now?" she asked softly, drying her hands off on a nearby towel. Turning in his arms, she braced her hands against the counter behind her and looked up at him. "What happens tonight? We just go our separate ways? How do we explain that to her?"

Hands now lightly resting against the small of her back, he smoothed a palm over her reassuringly. Her eyes were cloudy with confusion and worry.

"What do you want?" he asked, and her eyes softened sadly. That was a loaded question; she wanted a lot of things. He immediately bit his lip regretfully and sighed, rephrasing. "What feels right?"

Calleigh opened her mouth to speak, but all that escaped her lips was a heavy sigh. What felt right and what _should_ have been right seemed like two very different things right now. In the past, it had been so easy for her to draw a line between the two, to be cautious and practical amid rampant emotions. Now, the line was so blurred.

She averted her eyes to his chest, admitting softly, "Maybe you should-"

The sudden noise of the back door being forcibly opened had her cutting off before she could say the words, but her eyes finally locked with his and told him everything. _Maybe you should go to your place. _They were protecting Aubrey here; they couldn't toss around the notions of family and home too soon and just hope it would magically work out.

The very reason for the intensity in their gaze came stomping through the kitchen, practically dragging her grandmother in tow. "I helped Abuela pick up _everything_!" she announced, not so discreetly taking in the way his hands fell from her hips.

Clorinda's eyes danced between them knowingly, silently questioning her son as Calleigh placed a hand atop Aubrey's head.

"I bet you did." Calleigh forced a little laugh, unable to help the way her eyes drifted back to Eric's. Regretful but determined, he nodded just slightly and watched her lips tighten with emotion into a thin line.

"You guys should head on home," Clorinda said, a welcome distraction. "I told you I could take care of everything."

"I know." Calleigh smiled appreciatively. "We just wanted to help, especially since she was the reason for the mess."

"Ah, don't worry about it," Clorinda dismissed with a smile. "Just get her home so she can start to wind down. Ay dios mio, too much sugar. She has gone loca."

"Hey!" Aubrey was suddenly all playful attitude with her hands on her hips. "Did she just say I'm crazy?"

Smiling, Eric tugged her ponytail. "No more Spanish for you," he teased. "And she's not calling you crazy, Princess. You've just had wayyy too much cake."

She shook her head insistently, but the blue icing caked into her hair told otherwise.

"I guess I should get her back to wind down," Calleigh said, taking Aubrey's hand in hers as she glanced into the dining room. "Where are all her gifts?"

"In your car," Eric answered knowingly, and again her eyes were softening on him knowingly.

"Oh." Of course he'd taken care of everything, she realized with a hesitant smile. Over time, he'd adjusted to taking care of her before she could object – because he knew she would if he asked. "Thank you."

Clorinda was all too aware of the exchange, and of the way his hand landed on the small of her back as he offered, "I'll walk you out."

Aubrey ran ahead of them down the walkway, attempting to skip every other sidewalk panel but not quite succeeding. At the end of the walkway, she turned, smiling as she watched them near the car together.

As she stepped away from him, Calleigh realized that taking Aubrey home by herself already felt wrong. Despite her hesitance, she took her daughter's hand in hers, opened the back door, and hoisted Aubrey up into her arms.

"So…" Calleigh began, holding Aubrey against her. She searched his eyes for the words, for the pleasantries that would somehow make this okay. There really were none; this didn't feel okay. It didn't even feel right.

Aubrey beat her to it. She wrapped her arms around Calleigh's neck and hopefully cast her eyes on Eric. "Are you coming home with us now?"

His heart tightened at her innocent question that meant so much more and his eyes drifted to Calleigh's, taking in her pained expression. She averted her watery eyes to the horizon, where the sun was just beginning to fall.

It was like Aubrey knew that this had been the missing piece to everything, like she believed it was as simple as them just letting themselves be happy. Maybe she was right. And maybe it would be more confusing for her to think otherwise – to see them together, but apart rather than together, at home, permanently.

Something inside Calleigh told her that once he was there, he wasn't going to leave again. _When_ that happened ceased to matter.

"Come with us," she urged, her voice breaking just slightly. She finally looked back at him, eyes brimming with emotion. "Come home."

"Cal…" he began, but as his eyes searched hers he knew she was sure. She'd given in to the thought that had been circling his mind – and apparently hers, too – for the past week: while they may not know _how_ they were going to resolve the work situation, they knew that they would.

She knew the pressure was off; there would be no sacrificing their relationship just to keep their jobs, no burdens weighing on her about having another child, no guilt or pain hidden from him. They were happy, and they were settled despite everything.

Eric smiled disbelievingly as he simply took a few steps toward them in response. Curving a hand over hers on Aubrey's leg, he gently pried the keys from her hands, keeping his eyes locked with hers all the while. It wasn't until he was lifting their daughter from Calleigh's arms to finish what she'd started that he answered Aubrey's question.

"Yeah," he said softly, pressing his lips to Aubrey's temple. "I'm coming home with you."

Aubrey grinned as he easily settled her into her booster seat, double-checking the buckle after she'd excitedly strapped herself in. "Can we watch a movie?"

"Maybe." He hesitated with one hand on the door.

"And eat more cake?"

"Definitely _not_." Shutting the door on her playfully, he turned to find Calleigh smiling at them. Her eyes, however, held a complex mix of emotions that had rendered her both speechless and motionless. She could only stand across from him, communicating what she couldn't with words, until he opened the passenger door for her with that amused, yet adoring, smirk on his lips.

"I was going to drive…" She tilted her head, now smiling broadly, but he wouldn't budge. He only moved aside further, hand gripping the edge of the door, until she reluctantly conceded.

Grinning, he gently closed the door and circled around to the driver's side. After settling into his seat, starting the engine, and pulling away from the curb, he automatically rested his arm on the console next to hers. He ran his fingers along her wrist delicately, enticingly, finally letting his palm kiss hers so their fingers could weave together.

And _that_ felt right.

* * *

"Is she asleep already?"

With both Calleigh and Aubrey cuddled up against him on the couch, Eric couldn't see his daughter's face. Judging by the way she'd relaxed against him and turned away from the movie, though, he could only deduce that her sugar-high had more than worn off.

"Yeah." Calleigh lifted her head from his chest, delicately running her fingers along Aubrey's hairline and tucking her long locks behind her ear. "Good thing we made her get ready for bed before the movie."

He smiled, detecting the faintest traces of sleep in her own voice. Playfully squeezing her hip where his hand rested over her, he teased, "Too bad we didn't do the same with you."

Returning her head to his chest and tilting back slightly, she looked up at him with a tired smile. "I…was not sleeping. I was just resting my eyes."

"Mmm," he murmured appreciatively just before he kissed her forehead. "If you say so…but let's get you two up to bed." He moved just slightly, and she felt his muscles tighten and flex beneath her hand on his abdomen.

The moment he shifted, Aubrey was awake and worriedly grabbing a fistful of his shirt. "Where you going?"

"Nowhere, Princess," he assured, cupping the back of her head in his palm. "Just taking you to bed."

"You're sleeping here, right?"

Calleigh's concerned eyes met his at their daughter's anxious words. There it was – the firm reminder that all was not yet as perfect as it seemed, that Aubrey had lasting fears and attachment issues.

"He's sleeping here." Calleigh ran her fingers through Aubrey's hair again, further assuring her. "We'll both be here when you wake up. I promise."

Because they never made promises they couldn't keep, she settled a little. Her eyes, however, revealed a world of lingering questions and concerns. Looking between them both, she asked, "Are you sleeping in the big bed with Mama?"

"Yeah." Eric watched the amused smile that tugged at Calleigh's lips and couldn't fight one of his own. "Why?"

"I wanted to know where to find you," she said innocently, as though it were obvious.

"Well," Eric began playfully, "we'll both be in the big bed in the big room if you need us. It'll be just like before. Do you remember that?"

"We all went to bed here," she remembered aloud, smiling. Her eyes were distractedly focusing on Calleigh, who smiled back.

"That's right." His hand trailed up and down her back soothingly, his other absentmindedly twisting the length of Calleigh's soft hair around his fingers. "That's what we're doing tonight."

"Okay," she agreed, though it wasn't with the level of enthusiasm they'd anticipated.

"Is that okay?" Eric asked her, hands momentarily stilling on both of them.

"Yeah…" She sighed far too heavily for a five-year-old and rested her chin on his chest. "I thought maybe you could sleep in _my_ bed. But-" Pressing her lips together in pure Calleigh fashion, she looked away, hesitating. "Daddy, I think you're just too big."

Chuckling, his fingers splayed across her back once again. "I think I am, too."

After a moment of silence, she very carefully continued. "But we could all fit in the big bed…"

Realizing where this was going, Calleigh grinned a little. "Brie," she said, gently scolding her. "Remember what we've been talking about? You have to sleep in your own bed."

Aubrey pursed her lips in displeasure, setting her sights on an easier target: Eric. "What if I have a bad dream?"

"You can always come find us if you have a bad dream."

Calleigh sent him a questioning look and raised a brow. He was severely overestimating this kid's innocence and underestimating her wit.

"That's only for real dreams, though," she reminded, detecting the tiniest trace of a mischievous grin in Aubrey's tired features.

"Okay," Aubrey agreed, swinging the lower half of her body onto the floor in a half-flip until she was standing. "I can go to bed now."

Reluctantly moving from the comforts of Eric and the couch, Calleigh shifted so she could get up, followed shortly by Eric. Together, they let Aubrey lead them upstairs, tucked her in, and whispered their goodnights. Aubrey was almost too tired to marvel at the fact that they were both here to go through this routine with her, but as they exchanged a meaningful glance she was smiling.

Quietly leaving the room, Calleigh pulled the door closed until it was just two inches from closing – just the way Aubrey liked it – and fixed her eyes on him in the hallway. It was surreal, really, to see him here like this, to have just put their daughter to bed together.

He slowly reached out to her, gently tugging her forward by her belt loops and resting his hands low on her sides. She followed his gentle urging, walking slowly, in step with him, down the hallway and through the threshold into what had never stopped being their bedroom.

Smiling with disbelief in his eyes, he asked, "You're sure about all of this?"

She took her time before meeting his eyes, idly tracing invisible lines across his chest before her eyes finally flickered to his. "I know you're not going anywhere," she admitted, lips curving upward just slightly. "I know I don't _want_ you to go anywhere. That's…" She trailed off, thinking of the way the pressure, guilt, and fear of vulnerability had made her want to push him away. After all of that, letting him in and wanting him to stay was monumental.

"Good," he finished for her, tucking a strand of long blonde hair behind her ear and then cradling the side of her face in his hand. "I'm not going anywhere." He lowered his face to hers, her eyelashes fluttering closed just before his lips brushed over her the bridge of her cheek in a promise.

"Although _we_ may be, if we have to move," he teased, thinking of work as his hands raked through her hair to settle at the base of her neck.

"As long as it's we." She smiled, finding solace as she buried her face into the crook of his neck, his fingers delicately kneading her tired muscles. "But I could play with guns all day for exactly forty hours a week and we wouldn't have to."

Chuckling, Eric simply held her close and rested his head atop hers. "You're very stubborn, you know that?"

"Yes," she responded quickly, and he could hear the grin in her voice.

"We'll figure something out, something that doesn't keep you out of the field."

"But if we don't…" She pulled herself from the warm, comforting crook of his neck, finishing her sentence with a shrug and a smile. He knew what she meant: she was willing – willing to give up chasing suspects down and to risk spontaneous combustion every time someone from the department told her she was too far into overtime. It would be a huge sacrifice, one he wasn't sure he wanted her to make even if temporary.

"We'll see," he promised with an amused smile. She could be very persuasive.

His hands were settled on her sides now, and for a moment she rested her palms over the backs of his hands to take in his warm touch. Barefoot, she was so much smaller than him, and when she decided to glide her hands up over his arms and rest them on his shoulders, she had to push up onto the tips of her toes to do so.

Smiling, he made it easier on her and leaned down to gently capture her lips with his. Her hand instinctively curved around the back of his neck, bringing him closer, deeper, and after a few soft press-and-slide kisses she was parting her lips for him.

Hands smoothing over her skin, he trailed them over her arms until he'd taken her hands in his and threaded their fingers together at their sides. Here, in their home, next to their bed that held so many memories, the absence of those rings on her finger was staggering. Her hand felt empty, incomplete, and with one more heated touch of his lips to hers, he was pulling away just slightly.

"Just," he began breathlessly, taking a moment as the opening of her eyes stole his breath further, "out of curiosity… Where are your rings?"

"Out of curiosity?" she asked as she looked off to the side, contemplative but conflicted. As right as this felt, as right as _they_ felt, every decision she'd made regarding those rings had taken time; even taking them off had. She wasn't about to slip them on again in a rushed moment – and neither was he. "My nightstand."

He nodded against her forehead, just needing to know. Somehow, the knowledge that she slept next to them every night was a comfort, and soon his hand was slipping beneath her top in back to touch bare skin. He wanted her beyond all comprehension – not just in a physical sense, but here, in their home again, with her skin against his and his heart in her hands.

She rested her head against his chest, heavy with emotion, and closed her eyes again. "You know I love you, right?"

He knew, but the words still moved him. "I know," he whispered into her hair, fingers tracing her spine. She lifted her head to meet his gaze again. "I love you, too."

His other hand soon joined the first, palms coursing over her bare curves as he pushed her top further aside. Her own hands were raking through his short hair to cup the back of his head, urging him closer, and she sighed when his lips graced her shoulder.

The firm bump against the door startled them both, and when she heard the muffled "Mama?" from outside Calleigh realized that it had been Aubrey's tiny palm slapping against the closed door.

"Daddy?"

With an only somewhat bothered sigh, Eric smoothed Calleigh's top over her sides and walked towards the door, pulling it open.

"What's up, Princess?"

Calleigh bit her lip, trying not to smile at the adorable sight of him crouched down before Aubrey, her favorite stuffed bunny nestled quite tightly in her arms.

"I had a bad dream," Aubrey told him in a classic, patented voice that could steal anyone's sympathy.

"Already?"

Aubrey nodded, lips forming a pathetic but not over-the-top pout.

"C'mere, baby," Eric urged, easily lifting her by the underarms into his embrace. "What happened?"

"It was just bad…"

Eric's eyes flickered to Calleigh's as he walked towards her, skeptical but not wanting to dismiss it. "What happened in the dream, Brie?" He rubbed her back encouragingly as he sat down on the bed, Aubrey in his lap.

She paused for a moment to think, but not for too long. "A monster."

Laughing softly, he met Calleigh's own disbelieving eyes as she settled in next to them, tucking a leg beneath her. Aubrey had quite the ruse going when she walked in with her sad eyes and tired pout, but it was now obvious that she was more than wide awake enough to properly scheme.

"You're gonna have to do better than that, carina," he teased, earning him a bit of a glare. "What was this monster doing?"

"Well," she began, looking off to the side as though searching for the most logical scenario, "he was chasing me."

"Chasing you, huh?" Calleigh said, joining in on the teasing. "Sounds pretty scary."

"Uh huh." Aubrey couldn't help the grin creeping across her lips as she launched herself out of Eric's lap and into the very center of their bed. "I think I need to sleep in here."

"Mmm," Calleigh let out thoughtfully, playing along. She met Eric's eyes knowingly; if she stayed, they'd be both disappointed and not at all. "If you're scared, that would probably be best."

"I am," Aubrey said despite her grin.

"Just for tonight," Calleigh warned, knowing they were playing with fire here. But she also knew they couldn't just finally give Aubrey what she'd wanted for so long and expect her to sleep soundly alone.

Calleigh smiled at Eric sympathetically, moment effectively put on indefinite hold. He only smiled back, though, already tucking Aubrey beneath the soft sheets and finding his spot amid the many pillows.

Somehow, the moment hadn't quite been ruined. It had only been changed into something different, something he'd been longing for just as much.


	19. Fumbling Toward Ecstasy

I really want to apologize for not getting around to replying to all the reviews I've received lately. That's something that is really important to me because I'm so appreciative of them and if you can take the time to leave a thought-out review, then I can always find the time to at least reply. But between being out of town (please tell my friends to stop getting married, k thanks!) and my 6-week intensive class, things have been a little busy. I sat down to reply to all the reviews at once last week and ended up writing instead, which I think is probably okay with you all! :) But THANK YOU to everyone who has left reviews! I excitedly read them as soon as I get the alert on my phone and they always make my day.

Also, as some of you have been mentioning, this story is definitely winding down. I wish I had a clear plan for the final chapters, but I don't. I'm guessing there will be two or three after this one, though.

* * *

_Feeling your touch all around,_

_Peacefully hearing the sound_

_Of silence around us_

_So glad we found us this way_

_~Boyce Avenue – "Find Me"_

_

* * *

_

_A week later…_

He knew the room by heart. Navigating it in the dark was a nonissue. He knew the curves and edges of all the furniture, knew the exact path of the laptop cord he needed to avoid and the rough location of the hamper he was tossing his shirt into. He even knew the curve of her body in the sheets – in the very center of their bed, of course – until she stirred at the sounds of him moving about the room.

"You're home," she whispered, and she heard him come closer, felt the bed dip slightly under his weight. He crept in beside her, slid his fingers through her hair until he could gently cup the back of her head, and ever so softly brushed his lips against hers. As much as she loved the long hours of a busy, challenging day, she had to admit that she could get used to this – him coming home to her, greeting her with kisses and whispers in the dark.

"I don't…" she began, brows furrowing in the shadows as she searched the sheets. As if the haze of sleep hadn't been enough, he had to go and steal her thoughts further with the press of his lips to hers. "I didn't know you'd left the lab."

He caught sight of a red light blinking amid the dark sheets and smiled. Holding the cell phone up before her, he asked, "Really? 'Cause I texted."

"Mmm." He could just barely make out the outline of her lips pursing as she read the text. "I may have been asleep…"

"Just may have been?" He slipped beneath the sheets, and she was grinning as her hands landed on his disappointingly clothed abdomen. Gliding her palm down, she frowned when she felt his belt and rough khakis.

"You have too many clothes on." She tugged on his belt until he was hovering over her, allowing her to undo the buckle and push the clothing far enough down so he could kick it off.

"You interrupted me." Peeling the undershirt over his head, he added it to the pile of castaways on the floor and joined her in the middle of the bed. He settled in next to her, their bodies naturally melding together curve for curve – her chest cradled against his, arm resting on his side, legs tangling together from hips that tucked into one another like puzzle pieces.

She was smiling differently now, with calmness and comfort, as she simply reveled in the feel of his bare skin beneath her palm. "Aubrey wanted you to kiss her goodnight when you got home…"

"Already did," he assured, fingers searching over her silky chemise until they found smooth skin at her back. "She sounds all stuffy and pathetic still."

Calleigh had to laugh a little. When Aubrey was sick, life as they knew it ceased to exist and _had _to be replaced with a world of cuddles, movies, a parent staying home, and lots of homemade chicken soup.

"She was actually better tonight. Her fever is gone."

"That's good." He pressed his fingers into the tired muscles next to her spine and watched her eyes flutter closed. "I'm still surprised she isn't playing up the sick thing to be in here with you."

"She told me that we had cuddled way too much today and that she needed some 'space.'" She rolled her eyes in disbelief, fighting sleep as his body warmed hers.

He chuckled softly as he brought his face closer to hers. "And how are you?" he asked, lips brushing over the bridge of her nose.

"Better," she admitted, soft skin grazing his until she found his lips in the dark. "I think I started to catch it, but my immune system kicks ass."

"Good." He smiled as her lips met his again, all too aware of the intention behind her wandering hands. At the slightest shift of her weight onto him, he was turning onto his back and lifting her small frame atop his body.

Leg slipping between his, she let their bodies kiss as she brought her lips to his again. Sleep was the furthest thing from her mind now as his hands secured her body against his, palms curving over the contours of her waist. Lips meeting in slow succession, he gently took her bottom lip between his teeth, teasing the sensitive flesh.

When he came back to her, she parted her lips for him immediately, treating him to the warmth of her mouth and the dizzying sensations her tongue created as it traipsed across his lip. His hands toyed with the hem of her gown, stunted by the concentration her hands were stealing from him as they glided down his abdomen before teasingly slipping around to his sides. Letting out a frustrated grunt of displeasure, he sat up to take the reins, her body further intimately brushing his as he did so.

"You're killin' me," he mumbled into her lips as he urged her gown upward over smooth skin. Bunching the fabric at her hips, he held her there, pausing for a moment as she repositioned herself to fully straddle him.

"It's what I'm good at," she whispered back playfully.

Smiling, he slowly lifted the material higher until he could peel it from her upper body. He admired her curves with both his eyes and his hands before pressing his lips to the newly exposed flesh.

"Beautiful." He uttered the word against her skin, completely entranced as he kissed a pathway down the valley between her breasts. Lips skimming over her skin, he moved back upward, continuing the journey over her collarbone and along her neck.

With her hands cupping the back of his head, she held him close and lightly kneaded her fingers into the base of his neck. She was unable to bite back a soft moan as his lips – and tongue – found that weak spot of hers behind her ear and one of his hands lightly pressed against her abdomen.

She could _definitely_ get used to him coming home to her like this.

It was a fluke, really. They were both usually coming home late to an array of parenting and household duties, but today Aubrey's cold had finally taken its toll on her. Calleigh had stayed home because she thought she'd been catching it, too. It was easy to take off when they both worked at the same place, and out of nowhere it hit her that either of them switching jobs would confound any situation like this. They would both be even busier, they might have longer drives… Now may not have been the right time for such a drastic change.

Before she knew it, the words were bubbling up in her throat of their own accord and a soft, "Eric," was leaving her lips. He cradled her face in his hands, kissing her jaw lightly as he waited for her.

"What?"

She sighed, smiled, and ran her hands down his neck. Anxiety washed over her again, filling her whole and rinsing away the words just as quickly as they'd come to her. She captured his lips with hers again, persuading him into a deep kiss as her heart knocked against her chest.

As though sensing it, his hand slid over the soft skin of her stomach and up her chest, resting over her quickened heartbeat. "Cal…"

"Nothing." She smiled at herself, shaking her head as she leaned in to rest her forehead against his. He wasn't completely convinced, but she was smiling a little. "We have to talk to IAB again soon…"

"And that matters right now because…?" he asked playfully, fingers skimming over her ribs.

"That doesn't," she assured, though her words had him wondering a little.

"What does?"

Studying him with a mix of both certainty and nerves flowing through her, she smiled again. "You," she answered after a moment, pausing between words to press her lips to his. "Me."

He grinned, watching all lingering thoughts leave her eyes as he held her thigh against his and rolled them over. Silence pervaded the air as his hands explored her skin, her own hands keeping constant contact with his back, his arms, his face…anywhere and everywhere she could touch. And then, as his lips dotted heated kisses up the contours of her neck once again, his hands skimmed the length of her arms until his palms pressed against hers. He pressed down gently, fingers intertwining as he gently pinned her to the mattress.

Mouth finally reaching her ear, he pressed his lips where lobe met neck and whispered, "I want to ask you something."

"What?" She was so far gone, but her heightened senses picked up on the familiar slide of a drawer. He took her hand in his, and soon she felt the perfect fit of platinum gracing her ring finger – her diamond engagement ring.

Stopping there for now, he slipped a hand beneath her thigh and left a kiss behind her ear. Both were sensations that had her instinctively arching toward him. As his hand pressed into hers again, she felt the cool metal of her wedding band against her palm as it danced between their hands.

"Will you be married to me again?"

"Yes," she let out softly, and the band found its home once again. As his weight gently rested atop her body, he buried his face in the warm, sweet crook of her neck. She cradled the back of his head in her hand, bringing her lips close to his. "But I never stopped."

* * *

Calleigh awoke when he stirred, wrapped a strong arm tighter around her waist, and drew her closer. The soft light streaming into the room had already nearly stolen her from sleep a few times, but his movements had been the final straw.

Smiling, she tucked her fallen strap back over her shoulder and shifted in his arms a little. His only response was to curl his body closer to hers and let a soft grunt of displeasure escape his lips at the movement. This was the first lazy morning they'd had in a little while, and he was obviously bent on making the most of it.

So was she, really, but the longer she stayed awake, the more her mind was racing. The feeling she was currently experiencing was getting a little too familiar, and the words were so close to surfacing that she was pressing her lips together in anticipation. Doubt took hold of her again, though, and she let herself be swayed by the feel of his chest against her back, of his forehead on her shoulder.

"You do know we still have to get up this morning, right?" she asked, laying her arm over his around her.

"Not if she's too sick to check out the new school today."

Her scoff quickly dissolved into a soft laugh. "Good luck with that. I told her there was a playground _and_ a library, and she was sold."

Eric chuckled into her skin. "She's nuts."

"She really is." Turning in his arms, Calleigh tucked an arm beneath the pillow and let her eyes dance aimlessly over his caramel skin. Hesitating, she bit her lip. "You said she was more than enough…"

It took him a moment of studying her eyes to understand what she was remembering: their conversation about the miscarriage, about more children… He nodded softly, fingers caressing her arm in a comforting motion. Moving down to her hand, he lovingly ran his thumb over the rings now adorning her hand once again.

"I meant it," he assured, holding her gaze. "She's perfect…and she's a handful." That drew a bittersweet smile from Calleigh's lips and he tucked a lock of hair behind the curve of her ear, smoothing his fingers over it. "She alone takes up all of our time."

"Yeah, you're right." Her smile drew into a conflicted one as though she was unconvinced. Frowning understandingly, he brushed his lips against her forehead softly, about to whisper reassuring words to her when he heard tiny footsteps in the hallway.

Their door creaked open quickly, revealing a fully albeit haphazardly dressed and impatient Aubrey at the threshold. At the sight of them still wrapped amid sheets and blankets, she let out a frustrated huff of air and placed her hands on her hips.

"Why are you still sleeping? We have to go to school!" Hands now flailing about in exaggerated gestures, she took a running start and leaped onto the bed with them. Oblivious to their moment, she wedged a spot between them to lie on her stomach. The sniffles still plagued her and sleep was slow to wear off, but overall she seemed a little brighter.

"We don't go to the school until eleven, Sweetheart," Calleigh explained with a glance at the alarm clock – and with a sigh. "It's only eight."

"Oh." Aubrey sighed, letting her chin fall from the support of her propped-up arm to land in a sea of blankets.

Eric rested a hand on her back and smiled. "How are you feeling today?"

"Okay," she said, though her sniffle into the blankets and the way she was currently cuddling up to Calleigh told otherwise. "I wanna go to the school now."

"We can't yet," Calleigh reminded her softly. Lifting the bedding, she let Aubrey crawl in beside her and tucked the both of them beneath the covers. With Aubrey's back to her, she drew her close against her chest and secured an arm around her tiny frame. "Maybe we should go back to sleep for a while, and then when we get up Daddy can make us pancakes before we all go to the school…"

Eric shot her a playfully resentful look, and Calleigh smiled coyly as she kissed Aubrey's hair.

"Pancakes?" Aubrey's eyes widened momentarily and landed on Eric for confirmation.

He was powerless to resist either of them, so he merely smiled in complete acquiescence. "I think we even have blueberries for them."

"Blueberry pancakes are the _best_," she said decidedly, stretching out to almost completely take over Calleigh's pillows. Her excitement was short-lived, for soon her eyes were fluttering dangerously close to closing. She was still sleepy and sick, and it was clear her early morning burst of excitement had taken a bit of energy from her.

Calleigh rested her head next to her daughter's, Aubrey's body tucked against hers for warmth and comfort. The soothing nature of it was inherent, and soon Aubrey was drifting off into a much-needed rest.

Obviously affected by the sight of them, Eric sighed contentedly. He could only watch and admire the way Calleigh's eyes lovingly danced over Aubrey as though taking in every little feature. Eric softly raked his fingers through Calleigh's hair, eventually massaging the base of her neck in slow circles.

After everything, this felt like a dream she would soon wake up from, but it was all so real to her – the warmth of his hand, the feel of Aubrey's small frame against hers, the lingering scent of L'oreal kids shampoo that occasionally had her missing that Johnson's baby shampoo she loved so much. It was all so simple yet so overwhelming, and her need to let him in finally overcame all the doubt and anxiety.

"Eric," she began softly, in the same voice as last night. She pressed her lips together again, rolling them as her resolve faltered. But then her eyes met his over Aubrey and she knew – this wasn't nothing. He wouldn't think it was nothing. She'd tried to convince herself otherwise for a while, but every passing day just convinced her – and worried her – a little more.

"What?" he asked again in her silence. The gentle way with which he took her hand in his did nothing to help control the emotions building up within her.

She looked at him again, eyes softening as she shook her head disbelievingly. "I'm late…"

"You're…" he began to repeat before he'd really processed her words, his brows furrowing. And then it clicked – that look in her eyes, the way her gaze had been dancing over Aubrey with a conflict of adoration and anxiety. "Oh."

He fought the immediate reaction to smile; after everything they'd endured, the last thing he wanted to do was get their hopes up or make her feel pressured. So he pressed his lips together and kept his eyes on her, but he couldn't hide the upward curve to the corners of his lips. Also because of everything they'd been through, he knew she'd never voice anything like this unless she had a real reason to suspect something.

In thinking back, it hit him: the slow change over the past week or two. She hadn't been getting sick with Aubrey's cold; she'd just been _sick_ – a little pale and slow to start in the mornings. It was why she'd so enthusiastically stayed home with Aubrey, why she was still lazing about in bed at eight o'clock on a Wednesday morning instead of tackling her usual routine.

Nodding slowly, he kept his emotions at bay and let his eyes flicker to hers again. "How late?"

She bit her lip, reining in a sheepish smile. "Late enough…"

"Cal."

"Two weeks?" she offered.

"Calleigh…" Now his eyes were softening on her, even as he tilted his head in a silent reprimand.

"I'm sorry, I just figured…" she trailed off, shrugging.

He understood; it hadn't seemed possible. It wasn't like they'd done anything to _prevent_ it, but…neither one of them had thought they needed to. If before it had taken an entire year to get pregnant at all, then what were the chances of conceiving this time, let alone right away?

The more she considered it, though, the more it made sense. When he was on the night shift, they'd had so little time together – a weekend afternoon here, a bleary morning between shifts there. They'd been stressed and tired, overworked and underloved. Nothing had seemed right.

Now, their schedules matched, which gave their bodies more time to. They were both less pressured and more relaxed. Her appetite had returned, and with it she regained a few of the softer curves she'd shed amid forgotten meals and harsh workouts to relieve stress.

Still, it seemed impossible to her that it had happened so easily – so impossible that she hadn't given it a second thought until she'd felt nauseated three of four mornings that week.

"It could be nothing," she reminded him, staying realistic, protecting both of them.

He squeezed her hand lightly, his thumb caressing her fingers. "It could be everything."

Sinking her teeth into her lip contemplatively again, she glanced down, watching the steady rise and fall of Aubrey's chest as she slept soundly. The fear of not having this again and not getting to do it all over was still within her. It awakened at the slightest bit of disturbance, at the slightest bit of hope.

Following her gaze, he knew those same pressures and fears were closing in on her again. "Cal, if it's nothing, then it's fine. We already prepared ourselves for a life with just her – a very busy, very challenging life with just her." He sat up slightly, leaning in to brush his lips against her forehead and linger there.

She smiled sadly, hand on his forearm as he cradled her face. "And if it is something?" Somehow, there was just as much fear in those words.

Eric sighed against her skin. "Then we can be…cautiously optimistic."

"Cautiously optimistic," she repeated, letting it sink in before she smiled again. "I like that. How about just cautious?"

"That, too," he said softly, sliding a few errant strands of hair out of the way to kiss her temple. Knowing her, he whispered, "Let me know when you're ready to take a test."

"I will."


	20. Close Your Eyes

_Lay down_

_And come alive in all you've found,_

_All you're meant to be_

_And for now_

_We'll wait until the morning light_

_And close our eyes to see_

_Just close your eyes to see_

_~Boyce Avenue – "On My Way"_

_

* * *

_

After making his way through his parents' house, Eric finally found her outside. She'd been a little withdrawn all day, so it wasn't a complete surprise that she was curled up in a patio chair instead of inside with his raucous family. Her current location was even less of a surprise when he followed her gaze, now watching as Aubrey ran around the play set with the other kids, some a little older, some much younger.

Even after he'd come up beside her, it took Calleigh a moment to tear her eyes away. Looking up at him, she smiled because he could see right through her – and now they were sharing the added interest in watching Aubrey interact with other children. With that, however, came a barrage of unanswered questions and all too real fears. He sighed, resting a hand on her tucked-in legs and curving his fingers around one knee.

"Here," he offered, lightly squeezing her knee.

She stood instinctively, but it was just for a moment while he took her place. In no time he was reaching for her again, urging her into his lap so he could cradle her body against his. With her legs draping over the arm of the chair, she leaned into him to rest her head against his shoulder, thankful for the comfort.

"My mom is asking me why you aren't in there drinking wine with the girls." He tilted his head enough to brush his lips against her forehead in a soft, lingering kiss.

Smiling, she laid a hand over his chest and studied it for a moment. "What'd you tell her?"

"That you had a headache." He met her amused eyes, glowing bright green even in the fading daylight, and tried to read her. "She said you turned her down twice last week, too – at the party and the night before that…"

She opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated, sensing the implication. She'd known – well, she'd suspected – long enough to take every precaution for over a week, and yet she hadn't said a word to him until today.

He knew why. He knew that she was still terrified of disappointment, of loss. He knew that all those fears had been dredged up just when they'd put them to rest and just when they'd settled into a life comprised of just Aubrey. It was all wonderfully terrifying – unexpected and sudden, yet long overdue.

"I, um…" She stopped short uncharacteristically, eyes flickering to his briefly before she looked down. Rolling her lips slowly, she searched for the words – and the nerve. "I'm afraid either way," she finally admitted, shaking her head as the words finally filled the space between them. "Telling you and knowing for sure makes it so real, and then there's so much more to lose. So I waited." She shrugged, at a loss. "I don't want to go through any of what we went through before."

Eric nodded understandingly, taking in the genuine worry in her eyes as he exhaled heavily. "Neither do I," he admitted, his fingers finding hers. "And there's just as great a possibility we won't."

She wanted to let that realization sink in, but the urge to fight it was too strong. He was right in a way: they had no reason to expect the worst. But the past was reason enough to steal her hope.

"Maybe." The corners of her lips curved upward just slightly at the thought, but she sighed. "Seems too good to be true though."

With that, she returned her head to its resting place on his shoulder, unaware of the direction in which his gaze had drifted. Aubrey, running just a step behind one of the older boys, with more than enough determination to make up for what she lacked in strength and height. Aubrey, who had come to them so easily when there was no pressure, only hope. She had been the most natural yet incredible thing that had ever happened to him, and it had been simple, easy – almost too easy. But maybe it could be again.

Fingers idly playing with Calleigh's, he smiled. "So did Aubrey."

From her vantage point, she took in the way his fingers tangled with hers before he let their palms kiss. He pressed his hand into hers, paused, and began a slow caress of the side of her palm with his thumb.

If she thought back to over five years ago, she could remember the feeling – hopeful but not expectant. She could remember how simple it had been the night they'd decided to "let whatever happen" – and it had, effortlessly. She hadn't questioned a thing. It had happened easier, much easier, than they'd expected. And when she allowed herself to consider that it just might have happened to them again, it seemed like a very slightly more distinct possibility even despite what had transpired between then and now.

"Yeah, she did," she agreed after a contemplative silence, eyes drifting off to the yard again. "She is."

Finding her eyes, he noticed a change behind the deep green there, albeit a slight one. She was far from convinced, but for the moment she'd relaxed a little, and that was more than enough for him. She was content to simply sit there in his arms, with their fingers entwined in her lap and his body supporting hers. It was actually a little strange, he realized, noticing just how complacent and quiet she was. On days off she was usually restless and productive, taking on tasks to occupy her time. Today she'd never shaken off that uncharacteristic urge to sit back and rest.

"You're very...subdued," he noted, a hint of amusement in his voice. "And cuddly."

Calleigh smiled, brushing it off with a shrug of her shoulders – a sure indicator that something was up. "Is that bad?" she asked, not even lifting her head from its resting place.

"No, just a little weird." He watched her with curiosity as she shifted slowly and deliberately before settling again. "You're still feeling sick," he realized aloud.

She forced a smile and rolled her eyes. "I'm fine."

"Do you want to go home?"

"Eric, I'm fine." She sighed, practically feeling the unease coursing throughout his body. With a light squeeze to his fingers, she tried to reassure him. "Really. I'll feel better once I eat something – and no, that doesn't mean go get me food," she said, already sensing him tense in preparation to move.

A soft chuckle escaped him as he settled in again, resting his cheek to her forehead. He had to admit that this felt different; the more they tried to minimize it, the harder the signs seemed to hit them. And so he was smiling with a guarded happiness as his eyes traced patterns over her skin – down her sun-kissed arms and across the patch of creamy skin currently revealed at her hip. His free hand followed shortly, fingers trailing lightly over her side, almost tickling, as his arm remained around her.

She grinned beneath him, getting lost for a while in comforting warmth and soft touches until hurried footsteps interrupted them. Aubrey was running through the grass in an angered frenzy, tears threatening her hazel eyes.

"Aaron hit me!" She stood there with large, desperate eyes, running into Calleigh's open arms the minute she moved for her

For once, Eric was casting a somewhat threatening glance at his nephew from across the yard, though he seemed nearly as upset as Aubrey. "What happened, Princesa?" he asked as he lifted her onto one knee, Calleigh rubbing her back soothingly. "Why'd he hit you?"

"Well," Aubrey began, taking in and releasing a frustrated lungful of air. "I bit him, but boys are _not _supposed to hit girls!"

Mouth agape, Eric locked eyes with Calleigh, both of them sharing in the utter shock – and amusement – at the thought of their innocent five-year-old girl being downright vicious, and quite cunning in the process.

"Aubrey Nicole," Calleigh scolded, and Eric had to hide his smirk when Aubrey froze at the middle name usage. "You do not bite people. And you cannot hurt boys just because they're not supposed to hurt you."

Aubrey bit her lip as though assessing the situation and, after a moment of deliberation, looked between the two of them. "Do I have to say I'm sorry?"

"Of course you do." Eric was already moving from beneath Calleigh to set Aubrey down and take her hand. With her head down and her best pout on, she was already practically sulking and Eric sighed, glancing back at Calleigh as they walked away. "See, no pressure," he said playfully, though his eyes held hers meaningfully. "Handful."

Smiling back appreciatively, her eyes softened and she took a deep breath, releasing a bit of the weight that had been pressing down on her. Maybe he really was right – about everything.

* * *

Even from across the room, they were staring back at her like a firing squad: three white lines neatly in a row, silently determining her fate. She drew her gaze from the bathroom to the delicate watch on her wrist and sighed.

No pressure, she silently reminded herself, vacating her perch on the edge of the bed to pace the floor. After a few steps she paused, turned, and made her way into the hallway, finally working up the nerve to do what she'd been trying to do for the past minute and a half. She knew because she'd been counting the seconds, watching the hand tick on around, as she willed herself to leave the room for what she needed.

She found him in the office. He was seated at the desk, poring over an e-mail that likely contained the finished report for the case Ryan had taken over in his absence. Suddenly she couldn't wait, and she wasted no time in quietly coming up behind him, running her hands over his shoulders, and securing her arms around his neck.

"Hey," she uttered softly, gently resting her head against his.

"Hey." He smiled, pleasantly drawn from his state of concentration, and laid his hand over her forearm.

"Got a minute?" she asked, playful albeit nervous. Catching sight of her watch, she added, "And ten seconds?"

He chuckled at her exactness, the laughter fading as realization settled in. Gently pulling her arms from him, he slowly swiveled the chair around to face her.

"Really?" he questioned, fighting the smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Yeah." She had to let her lips curve upward a little at his reaction, but she discreetly took a deep breath in, collected herself, and released it. "I don't know if I can look at them," she admitted after a moment.

It was stupid, she knew, but over the years of test after test after test, she'd inadvertently conditioned a Pavlovian response of anxiety at even the mere sight of one of those tiny pink boxes. She'd barely been able to set up the tests, Eric's "no pressure" playing over and over in her mind like a sacred mantra.

And he knew this would be hard for her, when before it had ended in disappointment in a number of ways. He nodded once in understanding and reached out to run his hands over her sides supportively. Still, he had to smile a little as her words crept back to him. "Them?"

"Three." Grinning shyly, she raked her hands through his cropped hair and cast her eyes on his.

"How much time left?" he asked, slowly standing until he was towering over her once again.

Taking note of the jumping hand on her watch again, she bit her lip and hesitated to meet his gaze. Understanding, he weaved his fingers with hers and tugged, leading her into the hallway. They'd made it as far as their bed when she stopped short, keeping the distance she'd established before.

"Eric," she uttered, drawing his eyes to hers. She held them there, searching. "This is really bad timing, right? I mean with work, and us, and Aubrey starting school…" She nodded imploringly, needing to convince herself as much as she needed to convince him. "It's just bad timing."

He knew what she was doing: talking them down – talking _herself_ down – as well as out of this. Before they looked, she needed a negative, something to make disappointment less justified and excitement overrated. He smiled at the irony and nodded once with her. "Yeah, the timing's a little off," he agreed, though his eyes held both an understanding and a challenge.

Tilting his head toward the bathroom, he asked, "Gonna look?"

Eyes softening on him, she squeezed his hand before releasing it to reclaim her perch at the end of the bed, a silent no. In response, he walked backwards slowly so he could watch her, finally turning at the door to the bathroom. Surveying the counter, his eyes danced over the contents: three tests – three different brands, but one single result.

With his back to her, it was impossible for her to read him. But even after he'd turned back to her, she was still having trouble finding answers in his features. Normally his heart was on his sleeve, his emotions in his eyes, but there were so many complexities to consider. She knew he'd temper down disappointment for her, would even hide it completely, and so the cloudy reassurance in his eyes combined with the slightest tightening of his lips as he walked over had her at a loss.

"Eric," she lightly prodded, tilting her head questioningly.

But he simply didn't have the words. Instead of stopping before her, he leaned down to sweep her into a kiss that had her leaning back, grappling both at the bed and at his shoulder for support. Letting him capture her lips with his, she sighed heavily. She felt the bed dip as he climbed atop it, felt him gently easing her back as his touch graced her thigh.

As his mouth melded with hers, his hand curved around her knee, fingers caressing the delicate underside to draw her closer down to him. She still couldn't pinpoint the motivations in his movements, in his kiss, but there was a sense of desperation in him as he held her close and changed the angle to taste more of her. Stopping him was hopeless, so she cradled the base of his neck lightly in her palm, never completely giving in.

As though sensing her need for answers, he slowed, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips before he skimmed across her jaw. He was dotting kisses along her skin – across her collarbone, over the hollow there, along her shoulder and chest, going everywhere and nowhere all at once. But at his fingers slowly hiked the hem of her tank top up to her ribs, it was obvious he most certainly had a defined path in mind.

She rested both palms behind her against the bed, watching as he curved his hand around her waist to guide his lips to her stomach. First he placed a kiss just below her ribs and then he moved down slowly, lovingly, stopping low on her abdomen.

Pausing there, he rested his forehead against her skin and smiled. "Hi," he whispered, confirming what they both already knew. His lips graced her skin again, lingering longer there, and she had to look aside for a moment to collect herself.

When she met his eyes, though, hers were still tear-filled even as she smiled. She watched him again, taking in the happiness settling deep in his brown eyes as the utter shock left him.

"That is not cautiously optimistic," she warned, though there was no threat in it at all. There was a fear in her eyes he couldn't deny, but it was easily countered by smile that was currently gracing her lips and lighting up her eyes.

"Yeah, well this isn't bad timing either." He was smirking a little as he climbed back up to her, her body instinctively lowering to the mattress beneath him.

"No," she admitted thoughtfully as his fingers traced her jaw line before sliding into her soft hair. She met his eyes again, letting him in to the anxiety and relief and sheer delirious happiness fluttering through her system all at once. "It could never be."


	21. The Sound of Settling

Note: I've finally planned most of this out and there will be one more chapter after this one. It's sad coming to an end with this story, but I hope that between these last two chapters it will be a satisfying end for you. Thank you again to everyone for all the reviews last time around! Between midterms and papers, it's taking me a while to find writing time, so I really appreciate you guys sticking around despite the time between updates.

* * *

_Step out the door and it feels like rain_

_That's the sound, that's the sound on your windowpane_

_Take to the streets but you can't ignore_

_That's the sound, that's the sound that you're waiting for_

_~One Republic – "All Fall Down"_

_Several weeks later..._

With a frustrated sigh, she gave up. This was clearly not happening. No matter how much she pulled or twisted or adjusted, it just wasn't. And she'd already searched high and low for the box she needed, and located it...high. It was near the top in a stack of storage containers they'd piled in a spare closet some time ago, and it was definitely much heavier than anything she was allowed to lift. It was obvious that she'd have to get Eric, and yet she was stalling for equally obvious reasons.

Smoothing her shirt down to its full length, she padded into the hallway, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. His eyes met hers over Aubrey sitting at the breakfast nook and he smiled at the sight of her. With black dress pants and a shiny button-down, she looked almost ready for the day, but her hair was wet, the pants practically dwarfed her tiny bare feet, and her shirt was untucked, draping down.

"Hey," he uttered.

"Hi." She grinned shyly, leaning to the side to rest against the doorframe. "I need something."

He tilted his head playfully. "What?"

"One of the storage boxes," she explained vaguely.

"Which one?" he asked, eyes prodding hers along. There were a bunch in the spare room, several in the garage...

"The one with all the clothes I packed up a while ago..."

"Clothes," he repeated, almost a question, and raised a brow. She hadn't unpacked anything in there for years.

"Yes." She smiled again, far too pleadingly, and he eyed her further. Laying her head against the frame, she gave in a little. "I need pants."

"Pants." He nodded once, trying to understand.

"Yes... Why are you repeating everything I'm saying?" She rolled her eyes, playfully annoyed, and waited on him.

Coming out of it a little, he eased back into his chair and scooted Aubrey's oatmeal closer to her with the hope that she'd focus more on it than on the book she was engrossed in. "'Cause I can," he teased. "I think those boxes are up in the extra room."

"I know..." She bit her lip, not at all familiar with this process. "I already found it. It's just that it's very high and very heavy..."

He really did have to give her credit for the most vague way of admitting she needed help. While wanting to do things for her wasn't new at all, the adorable, regretful look on her face at having to _ask_ him to was - and he was enjoying it, shamelessly. "Oh, so you need my help?"

"Yes," she practically groaned, straightening and toying with the hem of her shirt again. When he finally got up without question, she thought she was home free.

And then, as he eyed her with a playful gleam in his eye, he asked, "Why do you need these pants? You have tons."

"I know." She looked off to the side as he reached her, hesitating. "But these are from right after I had Aubrey." His silence while he put two and two together was brief, but it felt so prolonged to her that it made her a little nervous. A moment later her eyes darted back to his, anxiously admitting, "I can't zip my pants."

Chuckling immediately, his eyes dropped to her stomach, where _he_ hadn't yet detected a change, but her clothing evidently had. "Already?"

As he grinned, his eyes were practically sparkling because now, when they'd been prepared for the worst, everything this time was proving to be so completely different. Where dwindling hormone levels had left her nearly symptomless last time around, every day was a constant reminder with this pregnancy. She was dog-tired in the evenings and nauseated in the mornings - or anytime she let her stomach get too empty, much to her dismay. And even despite her utter refusal to simply accept this, she'd slowed down. It was kind of amusing to see her changing in so many ways she wouldn't even acknowledge, but this...this she would have a hard time ignoring.

She playfully narrowed her eyes on him and he realized that hadn't been the best response. "Well I can't stop eating," she defended, thoroughly failing at being truly annoyed with him when he had that look in his eyes.

"I know." Still grinning, he drew in closer, fingers running along the hem of her shirt before playfully slipping beneath. "Bananas, anything with tomato...tomato soup, spaghetti sauce, chili, ketchup..." His fingers skimmed over her skin, and when his eyes followed he only grew more amused by the whole pants situation - the pants that hugged her curves with just enough give literally everywhere, yet were about an inch shy of meeting low on her abdomen. He couldn't help the almost silent laugh that escaped him as his hands danced over her skin.

She held his eyes and smiled, letting them give in to this moment just briefly, and then quickly returned to the annoyance over him being entertained by her wardrobe issues. "It's not funny," she warned, though her eyes were still alight. "I'm going to weigh as much as you."

And then, when he only laughed more and ran his fingers up higher on her stomach, she pushed his hands away from what she perceived as a little weight gain. "Would you stop?" Pulling the shirt back down, she smiled – and sighed. "I just need pants."

Aubrey had only been halfway paying attention to them, but suddenly she was pursing her lips and studying them. "Did you eat too much?"

Marveling at her innocence, Calleigh held Eric's gaze for a little longer. "Yeah, I did," she answered, feigning a frown as she took a few steps toward her daughter. "Way too much."

"You could lay on the couch," Aubrey suggested, shrugging. "Ooh, and watch Cinderella! That makes my belly feel better."

Taking in a prolonged breath, Calleigh sighed it out and ran her hands through Aubrey's damp hair. "I'll have to try that. Thank you, baby." Cradling Aubrey's head in her hands, she gently tipped it back to meet her eyes. She smiled, kissed her daughter's forehead, and rested her head there for a moment. "Be good while I help Daddy, okay?"

Aubrey grinned. "'Kay."

Eric was still smiling at the irony of her helping _him_ when his hand found the small of her back as she brushed by. He led her up the stairs, fingers trailing up and down her spine as a slightly tension-filled silence overcame them.

"You do know we'll have to tell her soon, right?"

She smiled sadly, crossing her arms over her chest once they were in the rather empty room. This was exactly what she'd been putting off – acceptance and all the potential joys and losses that came with it. Her blood work had come back perfect, with hormone levels that were more than doubling at the appropriate rate, and when it really came down to it she _felt_ pregnant, yet she hadn't let it become real for her. She hadn't truly given herself over to the idea because in that there was the risk of being disappointed, of disappointing others.

And so she'd been dreading today instead of counting down the hours, had been having dreams filled with empty ultrasounds and silence instead of a tiny silhouette and a pounding heartbeat. She was scared – terrified, really – and it was simpler to keep that between her and Eric until she was out of the 'danger zone' than to share it with a barrage of hopeful family members.

Sighing, she watched him slide the top box onto a nearby shelf, lift the one underneath it, and place it on the bed. "I know," she admitted, making a tiny noise of protest when he even opened the damn thing for her. "Maybe after today."

"Good." He smiled understandingly, though his eyes were full of a more realistic hope. Sliding his hand across her abdomen, he curved it around her hip to pull her close. "'Cause this is happening," he whispered playfully, kissing the corner of her mouth.

Her lips curved upward just a little and she placed her palm to his chest, remaining there as though if she waited, counting the steady drum of his heart beneath her hand, she could borrow a bit of his hope. And then he took her hand from his chest, weaved her fingers with his, and kissed her knuckles before he stepped away.

"Thank you," she called out after him, peeking out into the hallway to watch him go. When she turned back to the box full of clothes, she realized her palm had come to rest low on her stomach.

* * *

At first, Eric thought he was alone in the dim locker room. All was quiet save for the humming of an air conditioning unit somewhere in back. Then he heard the familiar buzz of a combination spinning, the metallic click of a handle popping up, and the creak of the door swinging open. As he rounded the corner to his locker, he found Ryan rummaging through his own.

Ryan looked up. "Hey." He smiled a little, his eyes showing the wear of a long day. "Headed home?"

"Yeah." Eric was smiling just as the thought. "Hey, thanks for handling that interrogation earlier with H. I had a family thing."

"Yeah, no problem." Ryan watched him spin the combination, tug on the handle, and pull his own locker open. "Everything okay? Where's Calleigh tonight?"

"Home." He smiled again, failing miserably at keeping it hidden as soon as he glanced inside his locker. "And yeah, everything's fine. I just had to be somewhere."

"She hasn't worked nights, or the field, in at least a month..." Ryan slipped an extra mag out of his holster and set it on the top shelf before turning, leaning against a closed locker. He was studying Eric carefully, concerned but also intrigued because he had a theory, and Eric was so much easier to read than Calleigh...

"Yeah... We're, uh, trying something new 'cause of IAB." He was trying to focus on slipping his blazer on and tucking his pistol back into its holster, but he turned towards Ryan a little, the beginnings of a smirk tugging at his lips even as he tried to offer a solid explanation. "If one of us works just the lab, we can still work together, keep the team together..."

Ryan smiled. This was just confirming his theory more. And okay, Ryan admitted, it was an obvious theory, but it was still just a theory nonetheless. He took in that smirk trying to etch its way across Eric's lips, thought of the calm that had settled over Calleigh in the past weeks, and on top of all the obvious evidence, he just knew.

"She's pregnant, isn't she?"

Before Eric turned into his locker again, Ryan caught a glimpse of a grin finally breaking out on his lips. That was answer enough, and when Eric moved to clip his badge back onto his belt, Ryan saw the newest addition to his locker: a three-by-five sonogram image pinned to the door, fuzzy but definitely distinguishable.

"Damn, you guys work fast," Ryan teased, studying the image before he pressed his locker door in until it clicked.

Eric chuckled, taking a moment for at least the tenth time that day to glance at it.

"That's amazing, man." Ryan patted his shoulder appreciatively. "Congratulations."

"Thank you." Eric sighed contentedly, pausing before he finally shut his locker. "Just don't tell Cal I told you."

"Told me what?" Ryan grinned, lifting his arms in a puzzled gesture as he took a few steps backward. "Have a good night."

He definitely would. "You, too."

Fifteen minutes later, he came home to a dimly lit house that smelled like chocolate chip cookies. The soft glow of the television in the living room would have led him in the right direction, but before he could even toss his keys in the bowl Aubrey came pounding down the hallway.

"Daddy!" He'd barely had time to shrug off his blazer before she launched herself into his arms. He lifted her the rest of the way up, settling her onto his side. "Momma helped me make cookies!"

"Mmm, I could smell them from outside. They must be good." He pressed his lips to her cheek, slightly distracted by Calleigh coming down the hall in a much slower fashion. She'd been favoring t-shirts at home lately, but now she had one of her little tank tops on, the material having to stretch further to still not quite meet the waistband of her low-riding pajama pants. He wasn't sure if it was because of what they'd experienced today, or because of her endearing, newfound acceptance of this all, or simply because she was now comfortable showing off the pregnancy a little, but suddenly he was taking in every little curve and change he'd dismissed before.

Between the pregnancy and the tempered down workouts, she'd regained some of her natural curves - in a good way. Her hips were a little softer now, with the same undeniably sexy contours he loved to trail his fingers - and lips - over, and he could finally admire and acknowledge the way her abdomen curved out slightly now instead of giving way to toned muscles. It was the slightest change, but it was everything.

"Hey." She smiled like they had some little secret.

"Hi." He grinned back because they did.

_She knew they were just moments, but it felt like forever to wait through them. His hand curved around hers, her eyes locked with his instead of on every detail of what was going on. With his free hand, he tucked a stray lock of bright blond hair behind her ear and she watched him, waiting. She felt the very light glide of pressure over her abdomen, heard the white noise flowing from the machine._

_With a slight swoop downward and the sound of movement, Calleigh's heart clenched. A quick, steady heartbeat filled the room and her eyes softened on his once relief flooded her. Swallowing down the lump of anxiety that had formed in her throat, she simply squeezed his hand and listened to the sound as though taking in every detail - and she was. She'd paused mid-breath to listen to each successive beat, to study Eric's eyes as he did the same._

_She'd reluctantly prepared herself to never hear this again and yet here they were, reveling in the sound. He rested his head against hers and she felt the gentle sweep of his lips across her brow._

"_Twelve weeks." The doctor's voice startled them a little, and when they looked up she was smiling knowingly. "You're definitely about twelve weeks along." She nodded toward the screen, where a blurred profile quickly captivated their attention._

"Twelve?" _Calleigh's disbelieving eyes danced across the screen. She'd stopped doing the math, stopped trying to figure out how far along she was. She'd stopped counting days and weeks because she'd known she'd drive herself crazy with worry and building anxiety. Instead, she'd thrown herself into work, Aubrey, and Eric. She knew she'd been pregnant for a while, maybe even longer than she realized...but twelve weeks?_

_She glanced back at Eric, an emotional sigh escaping her lips as his thumb excitedly caressed hers. The steady beat drew her back in, though, and her eyes drifted back to the screen._

"_Everything looks perfect," the doctor affirmed, panning back to the image of a profile._

_Eric watched Calleigh carefully, expecting some delayed, controlled overflow of emotion, but she only swallowed it down hard before she smiled. "Good," she said simply, yet it held so much weight as she looked back at him._

Calleigh was still smiling when he leaned in, Aubrey tucked against his side, and pressed his lips to hers. A quick kiss turned into a little more when she laid her palm against his chest and his free hand graced the bare skin at her hip. He tipped his chin just slightly to really capture her lips, his bottom lip pressing firmly against hers.

"No. More. Kissing." Aubrey practically groaned, pressing her hands to her cheeks in dramatic horror.

Chuckling, Eric tore himself away and pried Aubrey's hands from her face. "What's wrong with kissing?"

"It's gross."

"I hope you think that for another twenty years." He tickled her stomach playfully, watching as she dissolved into a fit of hopeless giggles.

In between laughter and desperate gasps for air, she managed, "Are you going to eat cookies?"

"Of course."

"And then we can read my new book?" She looked at Calleigh expectantly, too.

"Sounds good to me," Eric said, hoisting her higher up for just a moment. "But only if you brush your teeth and get ready for bed first."

"Okay," Aubrey reluctantly agreed. When he playfully planted her on her feet, though, she was immediately scrambling up the stairs.

Eric cast his eyes on Calleigh again. "So…cookies?" He grinned, because while he'd been booking a guy for shooting a shop owner in Little Havana, Calleigh had been picking up their daughter and baking cookies in her pajamas. It all seemed very backwards for her.

She was pressing her lips together to fight a smile as she folded her arms over her chest and indirectly led him into the kitchen. "Brie really wanted some…"

He eyed her as she leaned against the counter. "Are you bored?"

"No, not right now," she answered honestly. Not when she was out of the field for _this_. "Maybe I will be after the baby is here, but I don't know. Right now I'm fine." The calm, happy smile that spread across her face let him know that was an understatement.

"Promise you'll tell me if you get bored?" he asked, a little gleam in his eyes as he entwined their fingers for long enough to place a kiss on her cheek.

"I promise."

He lingered there as she gave in to the realization that everything was different this time around. _Everything. _They were completely open with each other, and it was utterly overwhelming to feel so connected, to be having another baby amid it all.

Even after the tests had been positive, she'd almost given herself over to a life in which this didn't exist. Today had thrown her for a loop, and with her eyes cast downward at their hands she felt the emotions she'd denied herself earlier slowly creeping up on her. She'd held her composure amid some semblance of shock in the doctor's office, but now, at home, with him here, talking like this… It was overwhelming.

By the time she met his eyes again hers were glossy. He studied her questioningly and a shaky sigh escaped her. Smiling, she rolled her eyes at herself as a few tears spilled over onto her cheeks. "We're really having another baby," she whispered, taking a deep, steadying breath.

Eric nodded with her, an amused but adoring smile on his lips as he cradled her face in his hands. Wiping her tears away with the pads of his thumbs, he gave her a moment, but the tears continued to fall. "Yeah," he finally agreed, running a soothing hand through her hair to tuck it behind her ear. "We are."

She sniffled a little and swallowed hard, engaging a pointless war against the tears now freely flowing. They were falling faster than she could wipe them all away, and Eric had to try not to smile as he frowned sympathetically.

"You get an extra dose of hormones today?" he teased softly.

"Maybe." She sniffled again – and then laughed. This was ridiculous.

Eric sighed contentedly, pressing his palms to her abdomen – which really didn't help the crying. He let his hands glide outward to her hips and settled them there, holding her. After dotting a few kisses across the bridge of her nose, he rested his forehead against hers, reveling in all it meant for her to be looking back at him with open, honest tear-filled eyes.

"You okay?" he asked softly, palms smoothing over her hips.

"Yeah." She bit her lip, trying to control just how badly the hormones were intensifying her emotions. "I just…didn't let it be completely real for me until today."

Eric nodded, understanding. He knew this had been building up with every day she denied what was really going on. He just hadn't expected her to be such an adorable mess about it because she was never a mess about anything.

"I told you this was happening," he reminded her with just a discreet hint of cockiness.

"I know." She smiled hopefully, hooking her arms around his neck as she took in yet another steadying breath. When her eyes flickered back to his, she uttered, "I'm glad you were right."

His eyes softened on her and she pressed up onto the tips of her toes, pressing her lips to his with newfound hope. She tasted of salty tears and new beginnings, a potent combination, and he found himself both comforting and celebrating as he parted his lips for her. Her fingers wove together at the base of his neck, pressing him down to her in response.

"This house has _too_ much kissing!" Aubrey broke them apart and Calleigh had to laugh at her exasperated, hands-on-hips stance in the middle of the kitchen.

"Believe me," Eric began, lifting her high up into the air before setting her on the counter beside Calleigh. "I think we'll all be very happy if that's your only complaint about growing up."

Aubrey pursed her lips, the meaning lost on her, but her entire demeanor changed when she noticed Calleigh's lingering glossy eyes, the dried tear paths leading down her cheeks… "Momma, why are you crying?"

"I'm okay, Brie," she assured, though she had to reconsider when her overly zealous, aggressive, stop-for-no-one daughter reached up to swipe away what was left of the moisture on her cheeks. "They're happy tears."

A look of recognition flashed in Aubrey's eyes. "Like during the movie?"

Eric raised a brow and Calleigh avoided his eyes. Instead, she smoothed Aubrey's hair behind her ear and whispered, "Hey, I thought that was our secret…"

Aubrey pressed her lips together. "Oops."

Amused, Eric set his sights on Aubrey. "What movie were you watching, Brie?"

Keeping her lips sealed, she glanced between them both, lingering on Calleigh shaking her head. "Secret," Calleigh reminded.

But Aubrey was biting her lip, tempted by Eric's encouraging smile. "But Daddy's good. We can tell him secrets, " Aubrey decided, smiling. "We were watching Enchanted, the one with the real fairy tale princess."

His laughter was immediate, and it earned him an equally immediate punch on the shoulder. Still, he kept at it, grinning and pressing a kiss to Calleigh's temple even as she playfully pushed him away.

"Enchanted…" He let it sink in as he moved around the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of milk. "Really, Cal?"

"You need to shut it," she demanded, though a smile was gracing her lips. "Has it been so long that you've forgotten the rules? You are not allowed to tease right now…" She eased herself up onto the counter and, despite the betrayal, pulled Aubrey into her lap.

"Okay, okay." He paused in front of the cookie container to throw his hands up in surrender, but he was still smirking. "I'll try."

She glared playfully as he piled himself a stack of what were probably way too many cookies. Aubrey, however, was thinking back, looking up at Calleigh and studying both her smile and her red-rimmed eyes.

"Why are you so happy?" she asked innocently.

It surprised Calleigh at first, but she sighed contentedly and wrapped her arms around Aubrey just a little more. She kissed Aubrey's hair and then rested her cheek there, taking in the moment…the three – well, technically four – of them there together.

"Because I'm with you and Daddy," she answered, meeting Eric's eyes from across the kitchen and smiling knowingly. She knew that look in his eyes, and with it came the sound of that heartbeat – a gentle, welcoming drumming that eased her mind and ignited her heart.


	22. A Warm Place

I can't believe it's time to mark this one as complete! Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading, and especially to those who have been reviewing! I always appreciate your comments and I really hope you enjoy the ending. I tried to give you a long, satisfying dose of fluff with this being the final chapter. And I skipped ahead a little with time again 'cause that's always fun.

* * *

_Always end up right where we start_

'_Cause I got time on my hands and hope in my heart_

_We both understand we weren't meant to be apart_

_~Sugarland – "April Showers"_

_

* * *

_

From the back, she looked just the same to him. It was almost as though nothing had changed. She was in her perfected shooter's stance at the lab's indoor range, goggles on, ear muffs perched atop her head. She was steady, as always, in high heels that were a shoulder width apart. A plain, long-sleeved green top wrapped round her curves and her typical black pants hugged her hips as she relaxed her entire stance. After a moment, she raised the sights to her eye line and, lining up the shot, hugged the trigger once - and then again.

But the sound was soft, unlike her favorites. It was only a .22, one of the few firearms still safe for her to use. And as she turned to pop out the mag and lay the gun down, he could see that the top indeed hugged her curves, especially the new one that had her belly curving outward in a well-defined bump. He thought back a little and smiled. Eighteen weeks.

She set her gear down and, catching sight of him out of the corner of her eye, turned to smile. "Hey." He had that look in his eyes again – all sympathetic and unsure. Hesitating, she leaned against the counter at the range and sighed. After a moment she met his eyes again, wincing, and asked, "How many hours am I at?"

Eric took a few slow steps forward until he could lean against the divider. Watching her understandingly, he admitted, "Forty-two."

She nodded, half-sitting on the counter and glancing down at her feet as she tried to brush her frustration aside. Working in the lab was so much more than a change of scenery and a decrease in action. She worked hours now, not cases, and the extra hours she used to spend investigating were proving hard to part with. Despite her frustrations, she knew it was the best situation right now. She couldn't work the field anyway, and the downtime had given her the resting time she'd accepted only out of worry early on. She'd had time to slow down this time - and it had been good for her, for all of them.

Smiling sadly in silent acceptance, she headed toward the gel block. "Horatio sent you again?" she asked, turning around coyly as she walked away.

Slipping his hands into his pockets, Eric smiled. "Yeah. Apparently I, uh, "have a way" with you."

Her eyes narrowed on him a little, taking in the beginnings of a smirk forming on his lips. "Mmm," she reluctantly acknowledged, though the corners of her lips were curving upward. Digging the bullets from the block, she studied them for a moment before walking his way again, a playful sway in her hips. But instead of walking _to_ him she brushed right by, eyes dancing with his in mock suspicion as she continued to her workspace.

She was still silent on her stool as she measured and weighed, recorded and studied. He watched her with an entertained look, taking her assured movements and the playful gleam in her eyes. Silent treatment. Clearly she hadn't liked Horatio's words – or Eric's amusement over them.

Eric cautiously stepped forward. "If you leave in the next thirty minutes, I know a certain five-year-old who would be very, very excited to be picked up from school by you."

She was, however, entertained by the notion that she was a force to be reckoned with, something to be handled with careful consideration, and so she smiled. The thought of Aubrey's eyes lighting up at the sight of her with her big black SUV instead of her grandmother in a little white car, along with the knowledge that Eric _did_ know just what strings to carefully pluck, had her softening a little. Damn it.

Lowering her eyes to the eyepiece of a microscope, she took in the curves and ruts of a distinct striation pattern. She compared it to the one a slide over that Frank had retrieved from a scene and exhaled slowly. Match.

It hit her again – that she didn't know how to feel about the results anymore. Professionally, a match was always good. It meant answers. These were just bullets now, not cases – not unless she happened to overhear details from one of the CSIs or detectives. Had she just convicted a deserving murderer, or a scared kid backed into a corner?

That knowledge was, in all practical sense, useless to her now. But she missed it. She missed the passion, the personal knowledge, involved with a case. She missed knowing why people did what they did. She missed the field – the drive to gather information quickly and the adrenaline rush of personally chasing down a perpetrator. She heard it all secondhand quite often, but it wasn't the same.

And usually, he could find the answer to her inquiry by just studying her expression. A relieved relaxing of her features meant she'd found a match, while a flicker of confusion indicated the pieces didn't add up, that the bullets didn't match. Instead she simply blinked, eyes drifting between the two striation patterns once more before she jotted a few notes down.

When she noticed him studying her, she focused on the bullets and bit her lip. "You know how sometimes you don't want to be right? You go through every piece of evidence, and when it stacks up against someone you thought had a lot of good in them, you just don't want to be right?" She sighed, glancing at the computer screen as it blipped through potential matches for another bullet. "Or how good it feels to finally, finally chase someone down after piecing everything together?"

Her eyes finally met his again, finding understanding and concern there, and she relaxed her shoulders. "I miss it," she admitted, candidly open and honest. "I don't feel that anymore. I miss evidence having meaning. I miss the cases… When I had Aubrey I knew I'd be back, so it barely even fazed me, but this is different."

"It doesn't have to be," he assured, stepping in close to her – as close as he would at work. "We said we would _try_ something different, Cal. If it's not gonna work, it's not gonna work. We'll try something else."

He was so calm, so sure, and she let out a weighted breath as her eyes searched his for answers. Everything at home had been so perfect, so natural; she almost hadn't wanted to disrupt it, but she had to be honest with him – and with herself.

"Chasing bad guys is what you do." He smiled reassuringly and tempted the boundaries by sliding his hand through her silky hair. She gave in, letting him cup the back of her head and draw her close. "I never expected, or wanted, you to give it up. I think I actually told you no…"

She closed her eyes and smiled against his chest, the fluttering in her abdomen a new development that had absolutely nothing to do with any romantic notion of butterflies. "On the plus side," she began at the reminder, "we really do have a lot of time now. I definitely won't be chasing any bad guys down for a while."

"No," he agreed, grinning at the thought. "No you won't."

More at ease now, she sighed and slowly pulled herself away from his warmth. Nodding toward the paperwork, she told him, "I'm going to get this to Frank and then yes, I will leave now that you've worked your magic on me." She rolled her eyes, still playfully indignant, and he chuckled.

"Don't be mad. We all have our weaknesses." He grinned, eyes pointedly drawing down and back up the length of her body before focusing on her eyes again.

She shook her head, softly laughing, and collected the stack of papers into her hands. "See you at home in a few hours?"

That grin only spread at the mention of this afternoon, of what they were finally going to do – the three of them, together. "Of course," he answered, never missing a beat.

* * *

Neither of them knew how to start. It was a little hard to bring up to a five-year-old in between talk of the days of the months song from school and how to draw tiger sharks. And now she'd run off in search of the stickers they'd distributed in school to add to her picture.

From across the now quiet kitchen, Eric raised his brows encouragingly. Calleigh shrugged helplessly, eyes silently pleading with him. She was great with kids; she knew that, but Eric had this way of putting things in kid terms. Maybe it was because he'd gotten to hold onto his childhood a little longer than she had. Maybe it was because in some ways he was _still_ a kid.

She smiled at the thought, and at the way his eyes were roving over the black v-neck and jeans she'd changed into. In an attempt to get him to refocus, she cocked her head to the side playfully until he noticed. Though he drew his eyes from her belly to her face, that whole refocusing thing didn't quite work because he was now closing the distance between them and reaching for her sides.

He'd just smoothed his palms over the center of her belly when a barrage of noisy footsteps interrupted them.

"Look!" Aubrey demanded, holding a booklet of stickers up to them. "I got stars and moons with _faces_!"

Eric gasped enthusiastically. "Those are pretty cool, Princesa. Where are the suns?"

Sighing exasperatedly, Aubrey glanced at Calleigh to share in her dismay. "Daddy, there is only one sun and it comes out during the _day._ Stars and moons are at nighttime."

"Of course." Chuckling, Eric glanced at Calleigh playfully. "How could I forget?"

The rhetorical question went right over her head and she sighed again. "I don't know." Closing the booklet, she literally hopped over to the breakfast nook and climbed up into the booth.

Calleigh pressed her lips together to keep from laughing, avoiding Eric's imploring eyes as she busied herself with finding something in the fridge. Nothing seemed to fit her changing tastes, though, and so she paused, unaware of Aubrey eyeing her.

"Momma, I have to tell you something," she announced, sitting up straight.

Closing the door, Calleigh watched Aubrey curiously. "What do you have to tell me?"

Aubrey pursed her lips in consideration, and with another glance at Calleigh she came out with it. "I think you're eating too much 'cause your belly is _really_ big, like too big to have more food in it."

Calleigh was stunned – too stunned to do anything for a moment but stare back at Eric with widened eyes and silently chastise him for his laughter. "Really?" she finally managed as she made her way across the kitchen to slide in next to her.

"Uh huh." Aubrey pressed a star onto her tiger shark picture and gave Calleigh a very matter-of-fact look.

Glancing back at Eric knowingly, Calleigh took a deep breath in. At least Aubrey had given them a nice lead-in…

"Brie, this isn't from eating too much," she began, waiting for a response. When she received only a very confused and very scrunched up face in return, she started searching for the words, reassured by Eric sliding in across from them. "You know Erica from playgroup…"

Before she could even continue, Aubrey had latched on. "We play on the swings and she's in my class!"

Calleigh smiled encouragingly. "Remember back in playgroup, when her mom's belly got really, really big, and then Erica had a baby sister?"

"Yeah." Aubrey wasn't all that interested because really, the baby had been a little boring. And then it clicked. She dropped the sticker book and literally froze as she looked over Calleigh. "There's a baby?"

"Yeah," Calleigh answered, smiling cautiously.

"Why?"

Mouth open, posed to respond, Calleigh looked to Eric again but found him clueless, too. This was what they'd wanted to avoid: the questions and curiosities that would inevitably follow, especially considering this was _Aubrey_, who had never failed to say or ask far more than she should.

"It stays in there for a while, and then it'll be out here with us," Eric continued to explain. "Like when Tia Amelia had her baby, and now Aaron has a little brother."

"Wait," Aubrey let out, holding her hands up emphatically. Now that changed everything. "You said sister."

Calleigh's eyes darted between the two of them. "Or brother."

Aubrey looked downright disgusted now – and a little worried. "And he lives with us?"

"Yeah, or she," Eric reminded. "And you two can play when he or she is a little bigger."

But Aubrey was having none of it, and she'd already covered her eyes with her hands. "I can't live with a boy! They're mean and gross!"

Calleigh laughed at her theatrics. "Daddy's a boy."

"No…he's a Daddy."

"Brie." Calleigh began to level with her, resting a hand over her small thigh. "Either way, you'll get to help us take care of the baby and you'll have someone to play with at home. It'll be a lot of fun."

"Only if it's a girl," she insisted.

"_Or_ a boy," Eric challenged playfully. For a moment, though, he considered that a girl might be safer because Aubrey kind of liked to beat up on boys. And then, lowering his head to catch her gaze, he added, "We thought you could come with us today to find out."

* * *

Soft laughter echoed throughout the above ground tunnel that connected Dade Memorial to its new parking garage. As they trekked on through to their car, Eric and Calleigh's fingers were weaved together at their sides. Still, he tugged her closer, her shoulder gently bumping his arm as she leaned in against him. They were both still laughing at Aubrey, who was just a few steps ahead, a manila envelope half her size tucked tightly against her chest. She could definitely still surprise them.

Eric shook his head as he watched her, and Calleigh caught the little sigh of relief that left his lips. She bit her lip, grinned, and held his gaze with her excited eyes.

As they rounded the corner into the eerily quiet garage, Aubrey leapt into a run.

"Alexx!" She took off, and Calleigh could just barely make out the familiar figure across the garage.

Aubrey was halfway down the length of cars before they knew it, catching Alexx as she was setting a bag into her trunk.

"Hi, baby!" Alexx let out excitedly, dropping down to hug her. She looked up, instinctively searching for either Eric or Calleigh, or both of them, behind Aubrey. When she caught sight of them off in the distance walking together, relaxed and happy, hands intertwined, she sent a smile their way. Pulling away from the overly excited five-year-old, she tucked Aubrey's long hair behind her ears and cradled her face to check her out. She was knowingly searching for gashes, burns, broken limbs…but Aubrey was surprisingly injury-free. "What'd you do this time?" she finally asked, raising a brow in a glare that was only playfully accusing. "You better not be trying to kick people off monkey bars anymore…"

"Nope!" Aubrey giggled – a little too mischievously – and then rethought her response. "Well, I don't get hurt anymore."

Alexx scoffed at that. Aubrey thought it was because she didn't believe her.

She set the folder down to lift her arms and spin in a circle for proof. "See?"

Laughing, Alexx nodded before she asked Aubrey, "What are you doing here then?"

"Seeing the baby." The folder was quickly back in her hands.

Alexx smiled, thankful they appeared to be just visiting this time. "Do you have a new cousin?"

"No, my baby," Aubrey announced. "We saw it on the computer screen."

Realization quickly flashed in Alexx's eyes, and now that Calleigh and Eric were close enough to really take in she could definitely tell there was a difference. A very, very noticeable difference.

All typical pleasantries tossed aside, Alexx demanded, "Why didn't you tell me? Are you out of your mind?" As soon as Calleigh was close enough Alexx was wrapping her arms around her, pulling her into one of those tight, welcoming hugs. "Look at you." She held her shoulders, again taking in the changes in her body, the calm happiness radiating from her. It was so opposite the distance that had pervaded their lives and hearts when she'd seen them just nine months ago. It almost stole her breath away.

Alexx had had her suspicions. She knew them, and she'd known something was off when, a few years after Aubrey, emptiness and distance had overtaken their lives instead of the family she had a feeling they'd always wanted.

But now they were here, still standing. They'd made it through, and it was clear that it was all working out quite well for them. She'd been right; good things happened when they were together.

"I'm sorry," Calleigh said, affectionately resting her hands over Alexx's forearms for a moment. "We haven't really told many people yet... I just wanted to make sure everything was okay first."

Alexx met her eyes, an unexpected moment of understanding transpiring between them at the unintentional knowing in Alexx's gaze. Calleigh smiled when it became too deep and Alexx did the same, a happy sort of empathy still in her eyes.

"Looks like everything is more than okay," Alexx noted, again glancing toward Calleigh's midsection. She averted her attention for just a moment to wrap her arms around Eric's neck, pulling him down into a friendly hug and whispering something into his ear that made him smile.

"Because I'm huge already?" Calleigh joked, resting her hand over the very obvious bump to her abdomen. "That's your professional medical opinion?"

"Mmhmm." Alexx laughed, but as her eyes took in Calleigh's happy, healthy features and danced between the two of them, her gaze held a little more meaning. "How far along are you?"

"Eighteen weeks."

Smiling, Alexx turned toward Aubrey again. "So did you find out whether you're getting a brother or a sister?"

"Yes." Aubrey pursed her lips and Calleigh waited for a response with bated breath. "The doctor said brother, but _I_ still think it's a sister," she said assuredly, eyes wide and serious.

Calleigh sighed helplessly, shrugging when Alexx glanced her way. It was touch-and-go. A few minutes ago Aubrey had nearly given herself over to the idea, and now apparently they were back to square one.

Alexx playfully rested her hands on her hips. "Why can't it be a boy?"

"Boys are mean," Aubrey insisted, reflecting every bit of the sass she'd been questioned with as her hands flew to her hips. "And I saw it on the screen and it was way too cute to be a boy… She looks like a baby doll. Wanna see?"

Before Alexx could even respond, Aubrey was already struggling with the latch on the envelope. Ultimately deciding to just rip the uncooperative flap open, she eagerly drew out one of the sonogram images.

"Wow, _he_ is very, very cute," Alexx told Aubrey before looking up to meet Eric and Calleigh's proud eyes. And then, as she took in the growing form captured in the image, the developing features already visible, she was grinning a little. "So eighteen weeks, huh?"

She was already thinking back, adding up the months and tracing time back to Aubrey's birthday, when she'd mercilessly teased Calleigh about the secrets and sneaking around. Nearly five months of pregnancy dated back much, much further even than that, and suddenly she was shaking her head in amusement.

Calleigh knew that look – and so did Eric, judging by the little chuckle currently leaving his lips. "Hey," Calleigh demanded, brows furrowing in playful indignation as she tapped Alexx on the arm. "Stop that."

But the damage was already done. It had only taken her a second to do the math, and now the secret was out: they'd been able to resist each other for even less time than anyone knew of.

Laughing, Alexx tucked the picture back in the envelope and sighed happily. "Well congratulations," she said definitively, looking between them with both amazement and a sense of inevitability. "We need to do lunch sometime and really catch up."

"We will," Calleigh assured with a quick glance at Eric. "We'll call you."

_We_, Alexx noticed this time and smiled once more. So much had changed again – for the better this time.

"Sounds good." With one more hug to Aubrey's small body, she was watching them leave together, as a family. She studied their retreating forms, mere silhouettes with the glare of the sun streaming in. She noted the way Eric's hand reached for Calleigh's again and then, deciding that wasn't enough, wrapped his arm around her to pull her close and rest a hand over her hip. She saw the way Calleigh instinctively leaned against his strong frame, saw them slow their long steps so Aubrey could reach up and take his free hand.

And suddenly, despite the fact that her long, trying day had just about run her ragged, all felt more than right in the world.

Halfway across the parking garage now, Eric was stuck on Calleigh's reaction to Alexx's problem-solving skills. He'd done the math, too, and with how limited their time together had been several months ago he should've been able to pinpoint it, but he couldn't. The timeframe was too vague, and those months had been such a happy blur of time passing quickly. It wasn't like he'd remember dates, anyway.

But Calleigh had seemed amused – and playfully protective of that information. Something told him it held a little more weight than the knowledge of just how long they'd been together again.

And so, with a playful glide of his palm over her hip, he asked, "Do you know when…?" He trailed off and she looked up at him as he finished the sentence in his eyes.

She pressed her lips together, smiling, and glanced down at the passing concrete as they walked.

"You do." He grinned, watching her expectantly though she refused to meet his eyes.

"Maybe," she admitted coyly, stopping short as they reached her SUV.

"And…?" he implored as he scooped Aubrey up to help her into the booster seat. Once she was safely secured, he returned the envelope to her awaiting hands and shut the door.

Calleigh was trying to stand firm with crossed arms and weakening eyes. She was both in love with and overwhelmed by the implication, and so she'd held onto it like a little reminder.

Her resolve faltered as he gently gripped her hips and eased her against the SUV. "Cal," he urged, and soon his lips were gracing the corner of her mouth. His fingers gently slid through her hair, over her neck, and she was done for.

Rolling her lips and taking in a hasty breath, she asked, "Remember that weekend…?"

"When Aubrey was camping with my sisters," he finished for her, nodding in recognition. A little smirk tugged at the corners of his lips at the memories – her in his striped button-down, the two of them tangled in the Egyptian cotton sheets, her in that temporary house of his that was now just a fading memory… "Of course," he breathed out meaningfully, watching as she raised her brows expectantly. He exhaled, smiled, and leaned in, resting his forehead against hers. "That was a good weekend."

"I know." She sighed – and smiled – as they shared in the meaning behind it all. It hadn't been the first time or even the second, when they were still unsure and confused and hurting. But after they'd purged themselves of grief and hidden scars and they'd just let themselves be, everything had fallen into place. Everything.

That was why knowing had made her ache a little. If she hadn't hidden her guilt, if it had really been this simple to relax and simply be, then they'd wasted so much time.

He thought he caught sight of glossy eyes before she closed them again, and so he cradled her face in his large hands, pressing his lips to her forehead lovingly. And then, with his head resting against hers, her hands holding his sides, he whispered, "We're going to have a son…"

The smile that graced her lips was immediate. "Not according to Aubrey."

Grinning, he kissed her cheek en route to her lips. "She's gonna have to get used to it," he mumbled playfully against her mouth. Sliding his hands down to the sides of her newly growing belly, he pressed his lips to hers until Aubrey began impatiently – and probably disgustedly – tapping the window.

Laughing a little, Calleigh ducked away and reached for the passenger door handle. She paused for a moment, leaning against the open door to simply take him in. "Let's go home," she said.

He smiled, the weight of that single word not lost on either of them. After all they'd been through to get there, it never would be.

* * *

**-:-**

**

* * *

**

Saturdays were sacred. The workweek was filled with court appearances, fieldwork, and evidence cataloguing, leaving them with a few hours in the evenings and even less in the mornings. Sundays were never a guarantee with Eric on call for his new department in the next county over. But Saturdays? Saturdays were for lazy mornings, homemade brunch, and walks on the beach.

That was why, despite the common tropical storm due that evening already rolling in, they were parked on the empty beach that was just a short walk from their new home. The sky was dull and gray, and the wind was whipping through an already chilly morning, but they hadn't minded.

The water was still warm from high temperatures throughout the week and the waves were surprisingly gentle along the shoreline. This was one of those typical Florida storms that seemed to swallow the sea, pulling the water back, collecting it for later ammo to pound at the shoreline. Waves were breaking violently, but only far off in the distance, leaving the foamy remnants of once powerful waves merely drifting ashore.

Aubrey was a little bored with them, but Jackson was transfixed. At just under a year old, he was walking with somewhat sturdier steps these days, but Aubrey still felt the need to hold him back from the weak waves every time he planted a little foot forward. She'd tug on the tiny hand she was already holding and pull him back against her, a frustrated grunt leaving his lips.

From a few yards back, Calleigh laughed, and Eric felt it resonate throughout his own chest. She was tucked against him on the blanket, engulfed in one of his University of Miami sweatshirts as her back pressed against his chest. His arms were wrapped around her, but she was turned to the side a little and curled up against him so she could bury her cold, bare toes beneath his leg.

"Brie, he's okay," Calleigh gently assured her. "He can put his feet in when the waves aren't strong, just not too deep."

Aubrey hesitated, looking between both parents for clarification before saying, "Okay." Releasing him to hold just his hand again, she let him take a few steps forward and waited, watching the water creep up the shore until it brushed their feet.

Jackson shrieked with delight, splashing around a little before the water raced away. Once she realized he was stable enough, Aubrey seemed to visibly relax, her shoulders dropping as she playfully ran her toes through the wet sand.

Calleigh tilted her head up to exchange a knowing, amused glance with Eric. It was still amazing to see her like this. She was still the same Aubrey. Last week she'd knocked another girl over in soccer for failing to bail out at the last minute when she was stealing the ball. She still showed no reservations when it came to taking risks herself, but her little brother, on the other hand, was not allowed to do _anything_. Being several years older, she'd become fiercely protective in a way that had completely surprised them.

Eric kissed Calleigh's hair as they watched on, their six-year-old gradually easing up and letting him splash through the shallow water on his own. She let him chase after her a little, but never far enough that he'd have to run on the uneven sand.

Calleigh sighed contentedly, turning to let her back fully contour to his chest. This was incredible. She was watching Aubrey, a perfect mix of them both with her dark blonde hair, tan skin, and hazel eyes, and Jackson, who had taken after Eric with dark hair and deep brown eyes, yet still held hints of Calleigh scattered in his smile and light skin.

They had really gotten here. Despite all the changes they'd made – Eric's transfer to another county, a new house that nearly straddled the county lines yet wasn't too far from family, her return as a full CSI – they had easily kept their footing. They chose home over work when they needed – or wanted – to, they made time…they even had _rules_ for making time, like Saturday.

Saturdays were definitely sacred.

She smiled, setting all sweeping realizations aside and simply soaking up the moment. Turning, she pressed her cheek to his chest and kept an eye on Jackson, who was quieter in nature than Aubrey had ever been, and smiled as he copied Aubrey's movements in the shallow water.

"You know," Eric began, a playful lilt to his voice as rested his head against hers to drop his lips closer to her ear. "I was thinking… It's a good thing we decided on this house."

She actually hadn't thought about that yet so she laughed a little, rolling her eyes at the thought. And then she turned coy, asking innocently, "Because we wouldn't be this close to the beach?"

Chuckling, Eric held her tighter. "Yeah," he feigned agreement, smirking playfully. "Because we wouldn't be as close to the beach."

His hands were already searching for the hem of the seemingly endless sweatshirt, finally diving beneath her top and landing on bare skin. "Because it's not like the five bedrooms are gonna come in handy or anything," he teased, fingers trailing over the beginnings of a bump low on her abdomen.

"Mmm…" Calleigh grinned, moving up into the crook of his neck to bury her cold nose against his warm skin. "You don't think he'd like sleeping in our office?"

"No, I don't think _she_ would." He moved his hands to her back, rubbing up and down to warm her up. "I think she will be very happy to have her own room."

She smiled against his chest, taking in a deep breath. "This is crazy," she admitted happily. And wonderful, impossible, completely unexpected…so many things.

"It's amazing," he countered, in awe as he again placed his hands over her stomach, this time through a few layers of clothing.

"It is," she echoed, pressing her palms to the backs of his hands and weaving her fingers around his. That same awe was in her voice, in her eyes as she watched Aubrey crash through the waves a little deeper, a bright smile gracing her features. She had never questioned home again, had completely lost those eight months like a forgotten bad dream after years of stability.

Eric's hand smoothed over her belly and she smiled again. Everything had certainly fallen into place.


End file.
